KOTOR: Kylie of the Old Republic?
by N7Knight
Summary: Kylie is an ordinary girl dragged by the Emperor's Hand for the Emperor's plot to invade the Republic. Will knowing the future help her survive or spin things out of control dooming the galaxy? Does the dark origins of how she traversed our verse to theirs, already screw her chances of survival and ever getting back? How will she prep the galaxy for the invasion she knows is coming
1. Chapter 1

When I come to, the blinding glare of an overhead light greets me, making me cringe. I struggle to sit up but my body is sluggish, my response time completely off, like there's a wet towel wrapped around my brain. Shouldn't I be in pain? I was shot, wasn't I?

Blearily I search my chest for the blaster burn, parting the cross top of the new tunic I wasn't wearing before I lost consciousness. Underneath a square synthetic cloth bandage covers most of my chest below the collar-bone. Knowing I would regret it, I start peeling at the top corner of the bandage to inspect the damage. Focusing on my breathing to steel myself, damn this patch is sure glued on tight, how much skin is it going to take with it.

"If you force me to re-patch you girl, your paying the credits it costs to keep me stocked on Kolto Bandages." An old man suddenly tsked making me jump out of my skin, he smiles kindly as he approaches my gurney from across the vacant clinic. "Sorry to startle you, your safe here, I'm Dr. Zelka Forn the physician for this clinic."

"How did I get here? What happened?" The last thing I remember I was lying on the streets of the Lower City confused, freaked out and in the worse kind of pain I've ever experienced, before I blacked out I remember Canderous crouching over me a strange expression on his face.

"I believe you're in a better position than I to explain what happened. When the Mandalorian carried you into my clinic you had already slipped into shock from your blaster burn and were on the verge of secondary shock from loss of fluids, fortunately he got you to me when he did."

"The Madalorian, is he here?" Canderous carried me all the way to Upper Taris? Holy crap, I almost died my first day on Taris!

Quickly searching the empty gurneys lining the walls of the clinic Dr. Forn confirms what I see, "He stayed long enough for me to remove Frag Mine shrapnel from his body but as soon as I told him you would survive your injuries he refused any further treatment and left." That sounds like Canderous alright, The Canderous Ordo carried me here from the Lowercity!

"Thank you, I uh, you saved my life." I tell him becoming self-conscious. The Doctor did save me, I can't even put to words how grateful I am. I guess since I've never been in this position before I'm not sure what's the appropriate response...

"Just doing my job." He shrugs, probably been through this a dozen times before. Turning his attention to the displays at the foot of my high-tech gurney he kindly asks, "Are you in any pain, how are the pain meds treating you?"

"Making everything slow and muffled honestly. Don't feel any pain at all." Never been on any high-grade pain killers back home, so I can't compare, but this definitely feels like high-grade stuff. "Uh, I can't pay you for this..."

"Then you're in luck as this is one of the few Free Clinics on Taris, besides your Mandalorian friend left an ample donation." He answers typing something on my gurney's screen, making the drugged feeling in my veins slowly ebb, allowing my head to clear. "But it only remains free if I can keep accurate track of how many patients I treat on a daily basis, for the government. So could you help me out and tell me your name?"

"Kylie Fletcher." I answer truthfully while my mind races to try to come up with a convincing story of where I come from and why I have no records, besides "a galaxy far far away".

"And am I correct in assuming that since your scans show you've had absolutely no immunizations or standard levels of exposure to Core Worlds pollutions that you're not from around here?" He looks at me critically one gray eyebrow raised in question.

"Yes," Alright let's go with as much truth as I can, keep things as straight as possible, "I arrived here from Korriban." It was where I woke up at least, after being pulled from my bed, by some ritual The Emperor's Hand was performing.

It's still pretty fuzzy what happened. I just keep getting these images of me levitating in a dark red shroud above the circle, the five Hand members formed below me. Before a Sith woman with dark and haunted features burst in interrupting things, attacking the Hand and collapsing the crumbling ruins we were in, on top of us. I still can't believe I was the only one managed to pull myself from the rubble after she left.

Hugging myself against the sudden chill I get whenever I think about floating there unable to move, unable to think as those disturbing Pure-Blooded Sith were doing who knows what to me... When I finally manage to distance myself from those memories I realized that the Doc hadn't said anything yet. Raising my chin from my knees I find him regarding me with a guarded expression. Real smart Kylie, you just admitted your from the capital planet of the enemy of the Republic!

"I'm not with Malak and his kind!" I add quickly. "I escaped Korriban by stowing away on a freighter, they happened to be stopping here when I was discovered and I managed to jump ship before they got any ideas." I nervously babble the rest of the story as quick as the words can come...

"So are you going to turn me in or something?" I ask nervously after a moment has passed without him saying anything. What would the Republic do with someone in my position, anyway? Probably keep me in detention or something until they're convinced I'm not a threat or until they've gotten every piece of intel they assume I have of the enemy. Could I run now before he calls the authorities, how far would I get, am I completely healed or would infection set in without meds? Where could go from here? Just my luck the freighter landed on doomed on Taris of all places, why couldn't have been Corusant or Naboo?

"Did you train at the Sith Academy? Is anybody searching for you: family, slavers, Sith?" He asks, his gaze and tone softening. He believes me? I know it's the truth, but I'm not even sure I would believe it. What do I tell him, convincing him I was a flunked out Sith Academy sounds like a bad idea even if I had Force powers to prove it. Giving a sob story that I was once a slave, when in reality I had a good life back home just feels wrong, but I can't very well tell him about my parents and sisters without getting into details about how I have no idea how I can get back. Oh God, how am I ever going to get back to them?

"No, anyone who knew of me there is either dead or believes I'm dead..." I answer hesitantly, trying and failing to understand what's going on under that balding head of his. I have still managed to keep to the truth considering I found more than one body part from beneath the rumble as I squirmed, scraped and climbed my way to freedom. The Sith woman must have believed I was one of them cause she wasn't anywhere when I emerged to the dust blown desert in my PJs sweats and tank top.

"...Do you have any family I could contact to let them know your safe?" I shake my head not trusting my voice to answer when I worry not for the first time these past couple of days what's going on back home once they realized my bed is vacant. The house was all locked up for the night would they think I left without so much as a goodbye? Sure I just hit the legal age to be out on my own but they wouldn't think I just run out taking nothing but my PJs and completely bar them from my life, would they?

"How does the Mandalorian fit in? How did you get shot Kylie?" At least his tone is remaining reassuring if a little confused, will he help me out? You may think this is pathetic but I have never felt so alone or uncertain in my life. Sure I was terrified after being almost buried alive, chased off a freighter at knife point and then shot wandering the Lowercity. But now that I've had a moment to breathe and my thoughts aren't centered on surviving the next few moments, I'm left realizing how screwed I am.

"I don't know him," I lie, sort of, I honestly only actually met him when I stupidly decided to jump in and help during that ambush. I had until that point only been following him from a distance too afraid to approach. Until the hidden frag mine suddenly went off as he was walking down an alleyway, and I saw him go down, surrounded by all those armed men jumping from the shadows; I just reacted. Before I knew it I had jumped on the back of the first guy I could reach pulling back as hard as I could with my arm squeezed around his throat. "I just, accidentally ran into a street fight he was a part of, and took a stray blaster bolt."

Course I didn't last long, but how was I suppose to know he didn't need any help and would recover from the blast so fast, dispatching of them so easily while I got the crap kicked out of me before, getting shot. He even finished off the last of them alone as I writhed on the muck covered alleyway in agony, deeply regretting my poorly thought out actions.

"...That's quite a story..." Dr Forn finally responses thoughtfully. Maybe he doesn't believe me after all.

"It's the truth." I answer with as much conviction as I can, trying not to panic at the thought of being turned in as an enemy of the state or something.

"...Better rest up while you can Kylie." He says briskly, leaving my bed for the desk at the reception area, when I hesitate to ask why, he looks back at me as he walks, answering the look on my face, matter- of -factly. "You've got a lot of work to do if your going to earn your keep here. Until you figure out where your going from here."

Does he believe me? I don't know, but it's a light at the end of this tunnel and I'm going to take it. And I'm to exhausted from a combination of pain killers, lack of food or water and running for my life ever since I arrived in this messed up galaxy, to even try to stay awake and question him.

It's definitely going to be temporary though there's no way I'm going to stay here until Malak's fleet bombs the place.

So slowly against my will I slip back into blissful unconsciousness where I can briefly escape the plaguing questions stewing in me: Why did the Hand or Emperor want me? What exactly did they do to me? Who was that Sith woman who inadvertently saved me while trying to kill me?

Was it just a coincidence that I ended up on Taris of all places of the galaxy? Does knowing what will happen here obligate me to try and stop it? Would that even be possible? How the hell am I suppose to get back home?


	2. Chapter 2

"We're not hiring." The bartender informed me curtly before moving on to the next customer, further deflating the little balloon inside me that kept afloat on the hope that I could get a job in the Upper City with only a reference from Dr. Forn, no background not even a private home address.

I guess I should have expected it by now considering I've already been turned down for: an apartment custodian job, turned down not for one and not two, but several waitress positions, not to mention Kebla Yurt's Equipment Emporium was a bust.

"Thanks for your time anyway." I say to his back trying not to be discouraged. Snap out of it, you'll figure something out. I tell myself making sure to keep my back straight and my face neutral as I leave the crowded bar... Why am I looking for a job, you may ask?

Well once I recovered from my injuries which was much quicker than it would have been with "modern medicine" back home. True to his word, I have been helping Zelka at the Clinic; mostly cleaning, organizing as well as handling waste disposal. In exchange for a cot in the back and sharing meals with him, he can't afford to pay me though, with his miserable nephew Gurney already on the payroll as the Clinic's Receptionist. And I don't expect him to, he's done more than enough by me. Did you know he practically funds the clinic himself with little to no funding from the Tarisian government? The only way he stays afloat is by selling medical equipment and taking the few and far between donations from the meager amount of nobles who consider it "fashionable" to give to charity.

Anyway I can't leave Taris or do anything without credits. So before I can decide on a plan of action I have to be in a position to act. Not shuffling from one place of business to the next begging for a job not even owning the clothes on my back. The deep purple long-sleeved tunic, tan leggings and black boots I have on were given to me from Zelka. Which even he took the time to take me shopping and let me pick it out. I protested but half-heartedly, the only thing I had were my PJs and they utterly destroyed from: trudging through a desert and the grimy Lower districts, getting shot and stuffing myself in a cargo crate. (Not in that order.) Which I'm ashamed to admit was my bed and bathroom, don't look at me that way! You have no idea how many hours I was stuck in their with only a crack to breath from, I wasn't going to risk getting caught in transit for a bathroom run.

Needless to say I was incredibly relieved when I felt the freighter land beneath me. Though I actually considered moving back in once I saw the Lowercity at the bottom of the ramp before the Duros crew member with a blade discovered me; I didn't stop running until my legs gave out. Which wasn't long admittedly since I didn't use them much curled up in that crate with only a bottle of water and a mystery bar I stole from another crate.

Anyway back to the clean and much improved (Thanks to Zelka.) present. I'm just making my way aimlessly through the Cantina not sure where to try next, knowing I need a new game plan; when the woman I was trying to pass grabs my arm. "Where did you get those clothes- a trash compactor from the lower city? And where are those drinks we ordered?!" No fricken' way...

"Sorry, but I'm not a waitress here." I tell her tightly, tentatively trying to free my arm from her grasp. This is the last thing I want to deal with. Forcing down my frustration and a pleasant smile on my face, trying to remind myself like a chant in my head: She'll have you beaten, she'll have you beaten, so keep it in and suck up if you have to. For Pete's sake the skin graft on my chest is still fresh along with the bruises.

"Why is the Help here so incompetent?" She demands ignoring what I just said, just like the game, "One word from daddy and I can have you fired." Actually now that I think about it; I'm pretty sure I'm screwed no matter what I say. It's not enough for her to have everything she wants, she has to prove that she can do anything she wants to anybody.

"Daddy", how old are you?" I ask incredulously with a judging raised eyebrow to match, she has to be at least thirty years old. "And whatever you're wearing must have already passed through the compactor since theirs so little of it left to leave anything to the imagination." Childish I know but her mini-dress was literally just sparkling strips covering the bare minimum held together by also sparkling see - through gossamer. I'm so gonna regret this, aren't I?

"How dare you speak to me like that Daddy is going to hear about this!" Spinning on her ridiculously high heel she storms out of the room her two groupies at her heels... Maybe this bar has a back door I can sneak out of.

Only when I'm sure there's no one in the back alley do I leave the threshold of the emergency exit. Unfortunately it's only when I turn the corner of the back door alley do I see the Rodian loitering at the corner waiting for me, before I can react he swings the pipe gripped in his fist striking my temple. I cry out seeing stars as I crumble tears filling my eyes as I struggle to fight past the pain and try to rise to my feet.

Through blurry vision I see the heels of the spoiled princess and the other Rodian watching the front entrance joining the son of a sith who struck me. "This should teach you to respect your betters." She tells me arrogantly putting her hands on her hips as she looks down her nose at me. In a surge of anger I blindly make a sweeping kick with my leg aiming at their feet. She goes down with a horrified shriek making me grin as blood oozes down my cheek. Unfortunately the Rodians were quicker than their boss and both managed to jump back from my leg.

At least I earned myself enough space to stagger to my feet my attackers glaring me down. A wild look in their black eyes like their on something as the completely ignore their employer who's sobbing as she runs away holding her wrist like she sprained it or something landing on it, serves her right. Now that my vision can focus I see what I thought was a pipe in the first attacker's hand is actually a now fully charged stun baton and his buddy grips a wicked looking blade, crap.

Our stare down only lasts a few seconds before the baton guy grows impatient and takes another swing at me sparks spitting from his weapon this time. At the last possible second I duck the air crackling above me as he misses. Diving to the side I try to get away from the wall and sprint for the busy street 50 yards ahead but I don't get far before the stun baton rams into my back overloading my body with volts making me choke on my tongue as I fall forward my legs turned to jelly. By sheer will I almost manage to stagger forward but he wraps his arms around my middle tackling me with his full weight.

Landing with jarring force I manage to swivel around underneath him to jab my fingers hard into his cringing eyes while jerking on one of his antennae with my other hand causing him to bleat out in pain. A sharp kick to the side of my ribs from his buddy knocks the wind out of me and allows the one on top of me time to pin my wrists above my head. Trying to buck and worm free from under him with every ounce of strength I have is useless and they know it. In a full blown panic now I can only whimper as the one with the blade crouches over me slowly drawing the weapon closer to my face savoring my fear.

Before I can comprehend what I'm seeing a large hand cups the Rodian's chin at the same time a thick forearm snakes around his throat. The only reaction time the Rodian had was to tense, his expression turning to shock before the hand wrenched his neck to the side killing him instantly.

As his partner's body crumbled beside him the other Rodian jumped to his feet baton at the ready, but Canderous is quicker. Rushing the guy while grabbing hold of the wrist gripping the baton, the Mandalorian forced his opponent back out of my field of vision and slammed him into the wall of the Cantina by the sound of it. Ignoring the pains in my chest I rise to my knees to find Canderous already standing over the Rodian as it's body slowly slides down the wall to crumble at his feet.

The danger past, the adrenaline rush leaves my body like a flushing toilet, making me tremble, or maybe that's the volts I received from the baton. In my stunned state all I can find myself focusing on was the Rodian's body lying beside me his head staring back at me at an awkward angle...

I jump when I feel the gentle pressure of Canderous's hand on my shoulder turning me away from the body. His lips pursed in concern as he inspects the wound on my temple. I know I need to get a hold of myself, it's just that the first time this happened, when I got shot... It happened so fast, that I was already flat on my back and in too much pain to know what happened to those that ambushed Canderous before I blacked out. I'm not completely naïve, I knew that they were dead but this, being conscious for all of it is something different.

"We've got to stop meeting this way." I joke weakly, trying to focus on anything else, they were going to kill me it was you or them. Ignoring my lame comment Canderous grabs my hand pulling me to my feet with a grunt. "Thank you, you saved my life... again."

"Only an idiot throws herself into a fight when she doesn't know how to defend herself." He speaks for the first time since I've met him. Taking a step back from me once I'm able to stand on my own without swaying. He studies me critically like he was trying to figure me out or understand my motives for interfering during the ambush, days ago.

"Hey I didn't pick that fight they did, and that spoiled brat they worked for." I protest maybe more than a little offended that one of my favorite characters thinks I'm an idiot. "Besides I thought Mandalorians were all about leaving the weak to their fate or something. If you truly think I'm an idiot why'd you help?" I spout out occurring to me only after I opened my mouth how ungrateful it was.

"I said you were an idiot not a weak idiot, a weak idiot would have never jumped into the fight in the first place let alone choose my side. Why did you?" He asks with genuine curiosity, I guess it wouldn't make sense to join someone else's fight in a place like Taris.

"I, I don't know, it was an unfair fight I guess. You were outnumbered and at the time I thought you were incapacitated by the blast. I couldn't do nothing and watch them gut you." I partially answer, I doubt adding that I know your a good guy from a video game would go over well. That said I guess I am an idiot for not remembering at the time that Canderous's enhancements would allow him to heal at an unnatural rate and take a blast like he did and as he might when the Leviathan captures the Ebon Hawk.

He's quiet for a while mulling that over while I try not to fidget under his scrutiny. The sounds of flying cars zooming over head and distant pedestrian voice's filling the silence between us. "If you want to survive your next fight, never run from them exposing your back to your enemy." He lectures like it's a foregone conclusion that I'll be in another fight... On second thought it probably is considering where I am. "If your opponent has you pinned to the ground like he did. Don't try to push him off, he's heavier than you and you won't have the strength to buck him off. Instead extend your elbow not your shoulder and force one of his hands down to your side while bringing your other elbow down to your hip, keeping your knees curled in. Use his weight against him and pivot him off before rolling free."

I nod as he tries to demonstrate while standing, though I'm not really sure if I could replicate it. I think he realizes this cause he frowns looking thoughtful, when something occurs to me, "I'm Kylie by the way."

"Canderous Ordo." He nods in greeting then after a tick like he suddenly came to a decision he adds. "I'll clean things up here, you get that Doctor to check you for a concussion and I'll be at the clinic first thing in the morning to begin your training."

**A/N: In case anyone was wondering the defense technique Canderous is trying to describe is a real women's self-defense technique you can view on youtube from Enter Tai Chi, Women's self defense ground defense if you want to check it out. Thanks for reading and I hope you'll turn the next chapter with me. It's a work in progress I know and I'm really starting to regret jumping ahead not writing Kylie's struggle to make it from Korriban to here but it is important for my story that Kylie for better or worse be in Taris. Also I will definitely elaborate more as to why Canderous decided to take up training hopeless Kylie in the chapters to come. Thanks for reading. **


	3. Chapter 3

"Come on, try it again." Canderous beckons standing over me after knocking me flat on the mat for the fifteenth time today, I've lost count what that makes for the grand total of since we started sparring, which isn't improving my mood. I'm sweaty, sore all over from muscles not used to being abused this way, frustrated that no matter how long and hard I try I can't hit the large freak of nature! It doesn't help that Canderous turns out to be such a hard-ass about it; always demanding that I: get back up, keep your arms up, swing from the hip, no use the end of your palm to strike not your fist! Yelling things in Mandoa whenever I'm too slow.

"Why are you doing this Canderous?" I heave out a sigh looking past his offered hand to stare him in the eye, finally asking the question that had been bothering me ever since he announced he would begin my "training" that evening in the back alley of the Cantina, but was to afraid to voice until now in case he changed his mind. "Don't get me wrong I'm thankful for the lessons..." Once I have some distance from them and cool down enough to think on what I have to prepare for, if I don't figure out how to return home before the Sith occupation.

"You want to quit, quit." He gruffs turning away from me heading for the other end of the mat to retrieve a water bottle. Scowling I jump to my feet yanking my towel from it's spot on the dusty floor of the under-construction Upper city apartment complex long since abandoned for one reason or another.

"I'm not quitting," I state firmly my voice muffled when I drag the towel down my face before dabbing at my sweaty neck. "I just want to understand why your so... So intent on pushing me as far as I can go and then farther still, when anybody else would have just showed me some self-defense tricks and called it good."

"Is that all you want to learn, tricks to keep some Chakaaryc from trying to have his way with you?" He asks almost as if he expected more from me yet coming across like he couldn't care less. Distracting me from the fact he still hasn't answered my question, probably.

"I wouldn't be showing up here every morning if that was the case." I answer irritably crossing the distance between us catching the bottle he tosses to me, and what would be wrong with learning just the self-defense; it's not like I have any intention of picking a fight with anyone. The fact that I know Sith will pick a fight with me once Revan gets here, whoever she or he may be, is the reason I keep coming back for more. "Stop changing the subject already and answer the question please."

"At the rate you get into trouble you'll end up dead by tomorrow," he smirks, is that approval in his voice? "Someone's got to teach you how to pull your own ass out of the fire. Cause I'm not going to do it next time." Without warning he smacks the bottle from my hand taking a fighting stance as it bounces on the mat. "Now actually hit me this time or your doing laps around the promenade again."

And, a withering glare is awarded to whoever can guess: who was doing laps around the Tarisian governmental buildings while this part of the world was just waking up, along with the sun. By the time I stumbled back to the clinic huffing, Dr. Forn and Gurney were already opening the clinic. "Ah, there you are Kylie," Dr. Forn greets before fully looking up from the crate he was packing. "Are you alright, your face is all red?"

"Happens every time I do my morning run Doc." I smile waving him off keeping my face down as I walk past him for the sink in the back splashing water on my face to try and cool down the embarrassing tomato red I know my it's pulsing with. I'm not over weight, last I checked I was well within a healthy weight for all 5'6 of me, just out of shape I guess. Hiking and biking were always a regular activity of mine back home just not used to such intensive running that my legs burn left feeling like noodles at the end of. "You guys are here early, whatcha packing for?" I ask as I towel off referring to the three large durasteel crates that clutter the small interior of the clinic including the duffel Gurney is packing.

"Today is the day out of every other week that Gurney takes over the Clinic for me while I travel to the Under City delivering these relief supplies." He straightens getting that absent far off look, I noticed after my second day here Zelka gets whenever he finally realizes that he forgot a step along the way which pretty much happens every time he gets wrapped up in his work. "Didn't I tell you?"

"No, I don't think you did." I smile politely shaking my head, glancing at Gurney before coming to a sudden decision. "Can I come and help, I've never seen the Under City?" And I don't want to be stuck with all the work while he slacks off knowing Zelka won't be around, like he does every time Doc's on call.

"Of course," Dr. Forn lights up suddenly tossing me a duffel it's contents clinking against each other as I struggle to catch it, while Doc continues oblivious with excitement. "Then I can bring those green house lamps I couldn't find room for! You can handle the weight right?" I shrug nodding, how heavy can they be?

I should have known better. Those heating lamps roughly two feet in diameter, made of durosteel, and each weighing about three pounds are crammed in my backpack that's half my size rising over my head half a foot when I have it strapped on. It's pretty funny looking actually, if I don't lean forward whenever I'm standing still like we are now riding in the Lower District Lift I start to tip over. This could be embarrassment induced paranoia but I could swear that all the stares we got traversing the Upper walkways lingered on me the longest and I heard more than one snicker behind me as I hobbled past.

"Hey Doc, I probably should have asked this sooner, but are we planning to cart all this stuff through the Lower City streets like we did on the Upper walkways?" I ask nervously grabbing the crates on the hovering flat bed cart for balance, I really don't want to add "getting mugged" to the list of new things I got to experience in a galaxy far far away.

"Oh no, I have an arrangement with a man named Gadon Thek, his people will escort us to the Under City Lift in exchange for the medicine in the first crate. Gadon is..." He begins hesitantly probably wondering how an off-worlder would react knowing he makes deals with a gang leader, not knowing the way things work on Taris, someone might think Zelka is willingly supplying a treacherous gang with drugs to abuse.

"I know of the Hidden Beks and how Gadon looks out for the people down here Doc," I interrupt putting the Doctor at ease. "What does he do with the medicine though, distribute it to those that need it?" How would that even be feasible? I first arrived on Taris in the Under City before I got shot and... well I didn't have to walk far to know the poor people in the Undercity aren't the only ones who need aid.

"He stocks his protected clinic within the Hidden Bek base which anyone in need can have access to, well until Brejik took over the Black Vulcars. They attack the Bek's at every turn." Doc makes to explain more but fortunately I'm saved from a rehash of the game's , I mean world's history (still hard to believe this is all real sometimes) when the lift rumbles underfoot finally settling at the bottom of who knows how many levels. My relief from finally being free of the longest elevator ride of my life, is short lived when an imposing Wee-quay armed with a blaster greets us when the doors part.

"Doc, glad you could make it." The Wee-quay greets with a wicked toothy grin. Completely unperturbed by the blaster fire arcing at his buddies behind him as they return fire at an enemy beyond my view. My first hope is that they're the Hidden Beks meant to escort us, but when I look over at Dr. Forn's grim expression and tense body language opposite the Wee-quay arrogantly leveling his blaster on me, a cold knot forms in my stomach knowing it's the other way around. Shit.

"Now your going to step out slowly handing over your gear or the little girly gets it." He sneers backing away from the lift doors giving us room to exit keeping me firmly in his sights as I slowly remove my bulky pack, cold sweat forming on my ribs. Any other circumstances and I would have made a quick but inevitably lame come back at the 'lil girly' comment, but fortunately I'm not so stupid as to mouth off at the guy holding the gun. "Kalik help me grab the gear!" He shouts out not taking his beady eyes off us as a green Twi'lek from the three men returning fire breaks off from his cover behind the idling hover car just as a blaster bolt takes him down mid-sprint as he tried to make it past the gap in the street that separates the car from the lift.

Hearing his partner cry out as he went down the Wee-quay takes his eyes off me looking back shocked and before I even realize it my body is in action following Canderous' voice barking orders in my head: "Turn to your side right foot forward, grab the blaster, bring you right elbow down hard into his midsection, when his grip loosens and he doubles over in pain ram the butt of the rifle into his temple."

It almost works as well as I've practiced with Canderous, since he's not wearing any armor the force of my elbow stuns him into releasing the rifle cept for one hand gripping the barrel loosely, not enough to stop me from using both of mine to drive the butt of the weapon back at him; his head much closer to me now that he's bent over in pain. He tries to straighten and recover the blaster when someone behind him screams "Detonator!" followed immediately by an ear-splitting detonation just as the weapon connects under his chin snapping his head back. As he falls backwards onto his butt, I fumble to turn the barrel around managing to train it on him in time, frantically blinking away the big black dots in my vision, burned there from the detonator blast.

Blood trickling down his lip the Wee-Quay glares up at me enraged, and for a split-second he tenses like he's going to rush me regardless of his blaster I have trained on him. My finger twitches over the trigger as every muscle in my body coils up with tension, please don't...

"Stay seated or it'll be the last thing you do!" A woman yells armed with a blaster which she also aims at him while her teammates flank the dented and smoldering vehicle where the grenade had detonated killing the other two fighters. The Wee-Quay snaps his head in her direction looking so pissed I thought he was still going to try it, but when he sees he's the last one of his men still breathing he begrudgingly lifts his hands in surrender grinding his teeth, and burning a hole into me with his glare. Apparently picking me to blame for his predicament, great, try looking in a mirror buddy.

There are four others with the woman, who are still on edge, even though the blaster fire has ceased their attention is entirely focused on between keeping the prisoner under guard and watching the perimeter for reinforcements, unlike their leader who I suppose is trusting them to handle it as she deals with us. "Fast work kid," The woman comments as she approaches us her voice coming out rough and loud, I keep my weapon trained on the Wee-Quay not feeling remotely safe enough to let it go, my legs starting to tremble from the after effects of adrenaline. "Sorry we weren't here to greet you Doctor Forn, The Black Vulcars swooped in on their shuttle as we were making our way to the lift and it took everything we had to reclaim it." Unlike the Black Vulcars this woman with dark skin, short shorn black hair wore an armored jumpsuit like the dualist at the Upper City Cantina. She like the rest of her men looked well trained and well equipped, prepared to defend. "Two of my men will take the Vulcar and our medical crate back to base. We shouldn't encounter any more the rest of the trip." Nodding to her men they proceed to gather our things the Wee-Quay snorts, yelling about the dozens of Vulcars waiting to gun us down on the streets. Before he's silenced with the butt of a rifle, tied and escorted down the street ahead of us.

"We're certainty glad that you stayed to help Cineer, and that you won out when you did." Zelka thanks her clearly relieved that the seething Vulcar is no longer among us as he slips his pack back on. "Oh, this is my assistant Kylie Fletcher she's new to Taris. That was - surprising how you managed to disarm that man, are you alright?" He gently places a hand on my shoulder, the look he gives me says he didn't think I had it in me. I'm just relieved it actually worked!

"Well I'm not shot and the ringing in my ears finally stopped. So I'm fine, considering." I smile but it comes weaker than I wanted. I'm trying to shake it off like they are, but I don't think I'm ever going to get used to being shot at or even near as the case was. Not to mention the surviving bad guy made it pretty clear this wasn't over for him, I really hope that's the last I see of him. "What do the Beks plan to do with him?" I gesture toward the departing group with my new weapon having no intention of surrendering it either, the game had more Vulcars shooting at Revan down the street and I'm not going to be unarmed when we meet them.

"Traded back to his gang most likely. Gadon is intent on trying to rekindle good will with Brejik. Personally I wouldn't be so merciful to those scum." She spits after the Vulcar. Before turning to look me over, I have no clue what her thoughts were, but she looks pointedly at the blaster. "Do you know how to use that?"

"Yes, my dad taught me." Sort of, he did teach me and I do have experience shooting but just: hunting rifles like our 243, my hunting bow and my dad's 380 pistol so I'm stretching the truth a bit, hoping the same principles can be applied just minus the bullets. "Good you're going to need it where we're going, if your ready let's move out." She says satisfied with my answer I guess. I nod that I'm ready to go, quickly swinging the pack back on switching hands to hold the blaster while adjusting each strap, before taking my place on one side of the hover cart, Doc on the other, with the two other Beks taking up our rear.

We make it past Javyar's Cantina and the Bek base in silence and without incident. I guess that's why Cineer thought she could relax enough to chat. "So your new to Taris huh, where you from and why in the galaxy would you come here?" She asks over her shoulder catching me completely off guard. Uhh...

"Kylie came here from Ord Mantel." Dr. Forn quickly answers for me apparently thinking the same as I did that Korriban wouldn't go over as well as it did with him. But geez, I know nothing about Ord Mantel in this time line! "She's training as a Doctor Abroad for the Peace Brigade." The Peace Brigade actually exists in this time line?

"Good for you, it's reassuring to see kids doing something that actually contributes to something bigger than themselves, we're glad your here with Zelka, too few people on Taris give a damn about the folks down here or in the Undercity like Dr. Forn here." She says as she returns her focus to where we're heading and I sneak a glare at Zelka demanding with my eyes "Really, you couldn't come up with something a little simpler!", his shrug said something like "It worked didn't it?", I shook my head. How am I going to keep track of all my back stories at this rate?

Once we said good-bye to Cineer and the others and began our inevitably long ride down to the Undercity I had to ask, "I don't know much of anything about Ord Mantel; for instance has the war reached there, did the Mandalorian war?"

He gives me an odd look, probably wondering why I know so little about the two major wars of both our life times. "No, other than the Mandalorians raiding it when they first started attacking the Outer Rim, Ord Mantel has been a refugee world."

"So what made you think of the Peace Brigade?" I ask quickly before he can question what kind of life I had on Korriban not to know anything about what are probably the major headlines of the war.

"My daughter joined at the start of the Mandalorian War, it seemed a likely explanation." He shrugs suddenly becoming distant.

"I didn't know you a had a kid, what's her name?" I don't know why I never thought of Zelka having a life outside the clinic, I guess when he never spoke of anything outside of work I just - kinda assumed that he didn't have one. Maybe he didn't buy my story about where I'm from and doesn't trust me enough to introduce me to his daughter, or he does and doesn't want me hanging around her with such a sketchy past, that I don't talk about. For all he knows I'm a runaway dark jedi who fled the academy there or something. If that's how he feels, why hasn't he turned me in yet then?

"Her name was Oriana..." Oh, damn. Of course I had to make his omission of his daughter about me. When are you going to learn to take the time to read a person before speaking.

"Was?" I ask gently; yeah I know that's a stupid question, but I've already made this agonizingly slow elevator ride, awkward and painful for him. The least I could do is listen about his loss, I mean it helps to talk about it right? "I'm sorry Zelka, we uh we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." I add hurriedly, self-consciously rubbing the end of my shoulder strap between my thumb and forefinger, simultaneously rubbing my sore shoulder with the other hand, unsure where to look or what to say.

"It's been around five years now Kylie, I'm okay with talking about her." He says offering a small smile before taking a deep sigh his eyes looking off into the middle distance towards the lift doors. "Her mother was killed in an accident, when she was still so little," He demonstrates lowering his hand to mid-thigh. "So I raised her on my own while working as a doctor at a government hospital, being party to Taris' broken health system. I guess growing up, Oriana got exposed to my disgust for having to work at a hospital that would wait to treat someone even if they were bleeding out, just to make sure they paid for treatment up front or were Human Uppercity legal citizens." The bitterness in his voice is almost palpable, I've never seen this side of him, I certainty understand it though.

"Well, once she completed her apprenticeship and was a Doctor in her own right she, she wanted to make a difference..." He continues with obvious pride, his expression softening. "You know, you kinda of remind me of her, always at my side at the clinic, comforting patients as she studiously watched everything I did committing it to memory so she could repeat it. Always full of questions too, like you..."

"... I wish I could've met her, she sounds like someone I would have liked to be friends with..." I tell him softly hoping I'm not being presumptuous, but I do mean it, someone raised with Zelka's selfless kindness and moral conviction who actually took it to heart, joining the Brigade as an adult; well people like that are hard to come to by. "What happened to her?"

"Buried, under a collapsing building she and her team were trying to dig survivors from. After the Mandalorians bombed the southern continent of Malastare." He answers so quietly my ears strain to hear before closing his eyes bowing his head, and for once I know to respect the silence, her life, with a moment of silence. Reflecting on how she spent her life helping others brought down by war; not contributing to it.

"That was five years ago Kylie, a day doesn't go by that I don't think about her or her beautiful mother. But I'm fine, I've had my mourning period, I know she would want me continuing my retirement, taking pleasure in helping those I can."

"I'm still sorry for your loss Zelka, the galaxy's loss too honestly, few people spend the time they have like she did... And Dr. Forn, I know I'm starting to sound like a broken record but, thank you, again for helping me and taking me in." I tell him when a pang of guilt hits my gut and I feel like I'm going to be sick. I mean how do I plan to repay his kindness? By abandoning him and everyone else on this planet the first chance I get before Malak gets here killing every man, woman and child. I know the friggen future, and I'm not even considering trying to change it for the better! I realize how impossible that sounds but doesn't everyone say how the smallest thing changed in the past could have far reaching consequences for the future? What if I could somehow find out when the Endar Spire launches and warn them about the ambush over Taris?

Okay admittingly not the most well thought out plan and it doesn't hold water after consideration, but I have to try. At the very least, I owe it to Zelka.

.

****A/N's: I'm trying to give the Kotor characters more of a voice now that I think I've introduced Kylie. Like giving Dr. Zelka Forn a backstory and make him more real Explain, why Canderous feels the need to mentor Kylie. And get her introduced to the Hidden Beks since I plan for Kylie to be interacting with them a lot in the future.****

****And I do intend to explain soon why The Emperor's Hand from SWTOR would be on Korriban in this timeline and the identity of the mysterious Sith woman who inadvertently saves Kylie's life. Next up we're going to explore the Undercity, make some friends with the Outcasts and get the first inkling of a plan to try and do something, anything to take on the monumental task of changing the future. But will she succeed?****


	4. Chapter 4

**First off a big thank you to LMSharp for Beta reading this, giving me very helpful insights and suggestions. Inspiring me to go back and update all the chapters previous this one. So feel free to go back and check out the changes if you want. And as always thank you for reading. Oh and check out LMSharp's story Disaster Zone, it's really good. **

The cold hits me first, like a damp earthy wave crashing onto us as the lift doors slowly part, protesting every inch, groaning as durasteel scrapped against permacrete. I hop out as soon as there's enough room, scared they might snap shut and never open again. No thank you, over 25 minutes trapped in that box was more than enough for me. The smell was the next thing to hit me as mildew, wet mold, with just a hint of rotting corpses and sewage shoved it's way up my nose making it crinkle as I tried not to gag.

"It's the Doctor! The Doctor is here!" A kid exclaims joyfully popping out of his hiding place behind a pile of junk near the lift rushing Zelka, his grubby fingers grabbing a fistful of Doc's tunic as he bounces up and down gleefully. "Did you bring any Pashie?!" Doc chuckles smiling down at the boy who couldn't be past five and terrifyingly malnourished. Zelka unlike me is far from surprised at the kids' condition, reaching into his pocket and pulls out a small round reddish fruit which the kid greedily snatches popping it into his mouth before I can blink. His face lights up as he chews still keeping a tight grip onto the fringe of Zelka's tunic as we approach the Yurt community, smoke from various campfires almost over-riding the stench. As we enter the outskirts skeleton people dressed in rags crawl out of their homes to watch us pass, as more young kids rush us squealing. Each grabbing a fist full of whatever they can of us, chattering excitedly as we trudge forward their tugs weighing us down almost as much as our gear.

I know it's unfair to call them skeletons but I don't mean it to be judging, it's just an eerily accurate description. As we enter the village the people we pass are nothing but pale skin and bones their eyes sunken in with dark circles. This is not what I was expecting to find down here, I don't honestly know what I was expecting.

It's like being in one of those t.v documentaries of those far away lands experiencing famine, just made a hundred times more real to me as I pass haunted looking families standing in front of a bare Yurts or lean-tos constructed from bits and pieces of everything. How can people go on with their lives in the Uppercity justifying that anyone could deserve this, no matter the crime they're accused of. I guess that's hypocritical of me, considering back home I was the one sitting on the couch, just watching the documentaries. Still the difference between Earth's problems and Taris's is staggering for me, or do I just feel that way cause I've had a sheltered life of sorts? Though I better stop, this introspection or whatever you call it, there while I can still catch myself.

I try to offer a friendly smile to those that look at me and most genuinely smile back, despite their circumstances, as I push the cart up the incline to the center of the village. Zelka having his hands full with around a dozen kids hanging on him begging for treats or new things from the world above, they let go of me as soon as they realize I have nothing to offer. Should have brought something, it's not like these kids ever have the option to go to the store and buy a handful of penny candies. Though considering I don't have anything to my name I guess thinking ahead wouldn't have helped much anyway. Not that I'm complaining about that, geez, after today I can safely say I will never complain about what I don't have. Damn, I'm lucky Doc took me in when he did; I wouldn't have probably ended up here but the picture I see of myself stuck in the Lower City isn't, well let's just say it ends with me sprawled out in an alley bleeding out or starving to death - whatever would come first.

"Doctor, we're all so glad you could make it this time!" Greeted a tall black man as soon as we stopped at the the village center right in front of the carved entrance of a huge round support column. He didn't look much different from the others: under fed, pale, with dark rings and sagging shoulders but he spoke clearly and with authority, the kids immediately quieting.

"Gendar it's such a relief to see the village doing so well." Zelka says slapping the village leader a hug, I would really hate to see what it would look like otherwise. "Sorry this delivery has been so late, friend. We almost didn't make it this time, the gang war in the Undercity is getting worse." He turns to me as the hug breaks standing beside Gendar turning the attention of the elated mob encircling us onto me. "Vulcars were waiting for us at the bottom of the Lowercity Lift, if it weren't for Kylie's quick thinking and the Beks fighting them off, the supplies wouldn't have made it here." I can only offer a timid smile to the villagers appraising eyes, my brain freezing up, a cotton ball suddenly clogging my throat, never been on a stage to know if I get stage fright but I think that my now clammy palms are evidence enough.

"Um thanks Zelka but, if the Beks hadn't been there we'd be dead. I just carried a backpack," I clarify swinging said pack off my sweating back resting the sling of my new blaster in it's place. The cold air hitting my wet back making me shiver as I struggle to keep the heavy bag from falling to the ground. "Who do I give these green house heating lamps to?" I ask Gendar trying to divert the attention of the crowd before I begin to squirm under their stares.

A small soft spoken woman named Theida collected my pack eagerly going on about how she could expand the garden and maybe even have enough room to finally grow Pashi as well. (Apparently they're big around here.) Gendar told me that she was the caretaker of the community garden after she lured the children away from Zelka, promising whoever helped her set up the lamps could have first dibs to the Pashi harvest.

Gendar and Zelka supervised the unloading of the seeds and canned goods first and I took orders with the rest of the villagers on putting things away. Getting sucked into the almost giddy energy the people suddenly had, almost as if they were opening presents on Christmas. What impressed me the most was whenever someone picked up something they no doubt needed as well, they would usually end up saying something like: "Oh some of these thermal blankets should go to Ezkale's home they need to keep that new baby warm." or "Most of these clothes should go to Ronin's family those kids are growing up to fast for their clothes and Alena is always trying to mend the new rips."

When it came down to only the medical supplies left Zelka handed the reins to a woman named Pacini the village healer for her to supervise the stocking of her make shift clinic also carved out of a support pillar like the village community center. When Zelka asked after her patients she answered, "Healthy cept the poor souls afflicted with the Rakghoul disease. The two Jedi down here healed all the rest of my patients before attending to those in The Pens."

"Jedi are here, now?" I blurt out snapping up from the Kolto bandages I was filing away on a bottom shelf. Earning odd looks from both Zelka and Pacini. "I uh, never met a Jedi before." I explain awkwardly rubbing my neck, which Pacini immediately shrugs off as a stupid fan girl moment, but Zelka gives me a funny look unconvinced.

"Well you can go meet one if you wish, Master Senob and his Padawan Benik are here from Corusant helping the Republic Outpost gather samples and conduct tests on those quarantined in the Pens. They claim they're in the final testing stages of a cure."

This gets the attention of Zelka so while he's distracted by getting the details from Pacini I sneak out hoping to get a look at these Jedi and try to figure how I should deal with them before they find out about me. And when I say that I don't just mean hearing about some girl that helped Zelka deliver supplies.

The night I was brought here by some dark ritual is still pretty foggy to be, but I know it was a darkside ritual that got me here. How and for what purpose, I haven't a clue. Maybe the Jedi could help me find the answers or even replicate it to send me back. That hope, no matter how thin I realize it is, makes me anxious to meet them. But what's stopped me from waltzing right up to the Temple on Dantooine and confessing everything to their Council these few days I've been in this galaxy, is this: They would more likely destroy the product of said ritual a.k.a. me, than dare try and reverse it. Also there's the three troubling markings I found on my spine right between my shoulders blades after the nightmare I had my first night at the clinic.

It was just the same old flashes I always get when I try to remember, how I ended up here. I'm trapped floating above chanting Sith when something. I, I don't know everything suddenly became so cold and it wasn't just the room temperature. The coldness whatever it was, was somehow animate pressing down on me, filling my lungs, making it impossible to breathe.

Fortunately that's as far as I get, cause the aging woman with features darkened and scarred from the Darkside, bursts in shooting a malestorm of lighting, lighting up the tomb that until then was lit my guttering torches. Immediately frying The Hand while their backs were to her, so absorbed they were in their work. While they went down, I could feel the energy around me or, whatever it was, withdrawing from me and I could finally breath. Next thing I know her red light saber arcs towards the ceiling of the crumbling ruins, followed by a violent pull with the Force she collapsed the whole place around us.

Just as a large sandstone chunk of the ceiling is falling right over me I always jerk awake. That first time sitting up in my cot trying to catch my breath I felt this hot burning sensation between my shoulder blades. Man did it burn that first time, tearing my shirt off and using the shiny bottom of a bedpan and the polished glass of a Kolto Tank I could make out the reflection of three quarter-sized alien markings literally glowing on my back, faintly, but honestly glowing! It still warms up whenever I have that nightmare but not so intensely as that night.

What if they did something more to me then just dragging me to another galaxy? Put the dark side or whatever you want to call what the hell makes Sith bat-crap crazy, into me...

As this was going through my head I slowly approached "The Pens", the place in the game where they quarantine the infected until one of them turns and tears the throats out of the others.(How is that Humane anyway, wouldn't it be better for them to say their final goodbyes to loved ones before , you know, making sure they don't turn - permanently?) I stop just fifty yards from the Pen keeping a Yurt between me and the tented station the Jedi set up to conduct their tests on the infected. Watching through the slightly agape tent flap as a short alien Jedi with large pointed ears and big dark eyes, I have no idea what his species is called, accompanied by a younger Human Jedi. (At least I think so under that hooded robe). They're both talking with a sickly looking man strapped down to an operating table. What are they doing?

"You- you come from the world above!" Exclaims a frail old man who suddenly grabbed hold of my arm making me jump out of my skin. "Is this the time of destiny then? Is this a potent of the salvation of my people? Or merely another false sign to mislead us from the path?" The last question he says pulling his face into mine looking deep into my eyes like he can determine the answer from some far away depth in them. His own having an unnerving, crazy desperation in them. "Are you the herald of prophecy? The beacon to guide us through the darkness? Or are you merely another harbinger of shattered dreams and unfulfilled promise? Speak to me Up-worlder! Tell me what fate you unleash upon us - salvation or damnation? Speak Up-worlder - I beg of you!"

"Rukil how is she suppose to answer you when you're acting half mad." A girl my age chides him pulling him back letting me have my personal space again. "Please forgive Rukil Stranger, he's been waiting a hundred years for his Herald and he demands the same out of every visitor to the Outcast's Village nowadays. I'm Malya his apprentice."

Apprentice wait, as in the dead apprentice Revan retrieves the one of the journals from? It's a weird, indescribable feeling to realize your talking to a stranger you know without a doubt is going to die; truly making her the walking dead. "Um, Kylie, I came here with Zelka." I stammer hoping she doesn't take a offense at the way I gaped at her earlier, "I hope I'm not a "Harbinger of shattered dreams", but if there's something you need I can try my best to help." The way I figure it, the sooner the Outcasts are safely tucked away in this Promised Land the better. Especially in case I fail to stop the bombing. I know from visiting what's left from Taris in SWTOR, that the descendants of the Outcasts' in the Promised Land don't last long when their Rakghoul Cure runs out. But if I can just copy the exact coordinates down of the Promised Land, making sure they don't leave until the Cure is perfected and that they stock a boatload of it - that is, if I survive the bombings. (I realize that's a lot of 'ifs' to hope for.) Well then I can tell the Republic exactly where to dig and send aid.

"Yes, yes you've helped us by helping Zelka, shows you have the right spirit." Rukil rambles lost in thought I can see the wheels in his head spinning out in his rush. "But can you be trusted to accompany Malya in the sewers or will you doom her search when we are so close?"

Crap is she leaving already? "Your venturing into the sewers alone?" I can't let that happen. "Whatever it is you're after I don't think it's worth going down there without a group, armed with blasters."

"I can handle myself." She states defensively crossing her arms. "And you have no idea what it's worth to us."

She says it such conviction I have no doubt she'd probably march straight for the Rakghouls to prove me wrong and how important it was to her people; whether they realize it or not. "Granted on both counts. I, I'm just saying," Crap what am I trying to say that will get her to change her mind? "Look I'm strapped for credits, and I, I had thought I could grab salvage from the Rakghoul territory to sell, but if we join up maybe our chances of returning alive go up." Hold the phone, did I just volunteer to jump into Rakghoul infested sewage tunnels with only a blaster rifle; not even a cure if I get bit? Note to self: think about what your planning of, for more than a couple seconds before opening your dang mouth!

"Typical Up-worlder," She sneers surprising me from the mental list I was forming, listing how many ways this plan could go south. "Even though you have a whole world, hell even an entire galaxy at your fingers tips up there. You have to invade down here and try to exploit the few resources we have just to make extra credits. Did you ever consider how little we have down here as it is before you suckered Zelka into letting you tag along down here?"

Shoot I didn't think my on the fly explanation would be taken that way, in the game there was plenty of salvagers down here I thought it was accepted and commonplace. "No, it wasn't like that. I came here to help Zelka, the salvage was just an after thought, after I got here." I back-pedal, feeling extremely guilty, these people have less than squat, hell if it wasn't for: luck, fate, the Force or the Powers that be. I would've been stuck as a slave on Korriban or dead in a ditch in the Lowercity. And here I am thinking on exploiting on what little they had to work with while I've had practically everything I needed handed to me on a platter. "I was under the impression that salvagers coming down here would help your village, with trade and what not..." I add lamely, realizing there's nothing I could say that wouldn't make me sound more of an ass.

"Hah! Trade? No one can afford to pay what the good salvage here is worth; so most just march right on through carrying it up the lift." She starts bitterly before Rukil places a restraining hand on her shoulder reminding her to check her emotions before going full throttle on chewing me out. They exchange a long look the kind only possible between people who know each other well enough to forego words. "But nobody else in this town has the guts or belief to come with me and your right; I could use another gun... If we go, you can take any salvage you can carry as payment except the two items I'm looking for; you try to take those and I will kill you." She tells me cooly closing the distance between us, her copper colored bangs hanging loose from her taunt french braid. Shadowing her pale face, causing her silver grey eyes to look even more intense as she somehow stared me down even though she's two inches shorter.

"Agreed, but on one condition: we better have more gear then just my blaster between us, like some kind of full body armor to resist a Rakghoul bite, something to breath with so we aren't exposed to toxic levels of methane and crap - no pun intended." I add once I realized what I said, she just rolls her eyes.

"And Stealth Belts too I suppose; to go along with our light sabers! How the hell do you intend to get those things without credits Up-worlder?"

"It's Kylie, and we'll just have to wait and be resourceful, how the hell do you intend to survive down there without them?" She doesn't have an answer for that I can tell otherwise she would have flaunted it instead of avoiding my eyes. "Look I work in a clinic, maybe I can borrow two breathing masks with Zelka's permission." I offer trying to give a reason for her to hold off going until I'm ready to go with her. All the while, the little voice inside me shouting that I'm an idiot for even considering stepping foot in Rakghoul territory.

"Fine, I think I can scrounge up some kind of thick clothing that Rakghoul teeth can't penetrate from our merchant Igear, but it won't be cheap." Malya offers begrudgingly accepting my argument. She opens her mouth to say more when her eyes are drawn to something behind me, her mouth closing into a thin line. "They better make that damn cure soon."

Turning around to see what holds both her and Rukil's attention I see the man strapped down on the Jedi's operating table is no longer moving or breathing. "What happened?" I ask barely above a whisper, as I adjust my angle to better look through the tent flap to see the alien come towards the table with a scalpel while the younger Jedi drew blood slowly filling a blood pack.

"That Sulostan and his Miraluka Padawan better finish that cure soon. It's bad enough the Bitten have to be put down before they turn but cutting them open to mess with their insides is adding insult to injury." She says to no one in particular clenching her fists at her sides, paling even further than I thought was physically capable considering her complexion from never seeing sun.

I can't imagine what she's feeling right now, growing up in this impoverished small community she probably knows everyone here on a first name basis. I wonder who he was to her...

"They're doing what's necessary for the good of Taris Malya." Rukil speaks up placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. Her jaw firmly clenched she nods before turning to me a fierce determination in her look, "Zelka knows the village's Holo-Frequency and we know Zelka's, call me once you collect your part of the gear and I'll do the same when I get mine." I nod as they leave me and the dissection tent, as I head back to Pacini and Doc, not wanting to glimpse what comes next either. Feeling kinda guilty as I wish for the cure to be complete before we embark for the sewers even after I've seen how they have to go about their work. We, I'm going to need serious funding if I'm going to have any hope of preventing Taris's destruction and I think I know how to get it; starting with getting credits fast to provide for our expedition into the sewers.

For now I'll stick to avoiding Jedi as much as possible. Unless I can think of a way they could get me home, but seeing how unlikely that is, I have a better shot completing the games storyline. I mean isn't that how fanfic's usually end, then the SI gets to go home? God, I can't believe I just compared this to a fanfic, my life just keeps getting more and more absurd. And as much as I don't want to doubt it, I know getting home, if I ever can find a way to return home - will never be that simple.

The next morning after sharing a meager and a kinda flavorless meal but with the good company of the Outcasts as their thanks, and after having enjoyed a sound, deep sleep crashing at the clinic once the long trip back was finally over. I woke up earlier than usual this time starting my routine even before Canderous arrived. "You're up early." He remarks showing up at our usual time.

"Yeah well, I'm going to have to step it up and have you teach me how to maintain this rifle I got, so I can earn credits from the dueling ring." It seems like that's the only source of income left available to me and this time no one is turning me away and I am not going to fail. I have to make sure of it


	5. Chapter 5

** Beta read by: LMSharp**

"Duelist? Heh, I guess it's a worthy first challenge for you," Is Canderous' response after my declaration. Encouraged that his reaction wasn't an outright laugh or something else dismissive I grin up at him, my chest filling with pride. It's gotta mean something that _The _Canderous Ordo thinks I'm up for the challenge. "Do you even know how to use that blaster, and where did you get it?" He asks gesturing at my latest prize lying on top of a makeshift workbench comprised of a wide durasteel beam laid across two large permacrete blocks.

"Off a Black Vulkar who was threatening me with it." I shrug, like it was nothing, even though inside I'm giddy at the chance to brag, if my chest gets any fuller with hot air it'll pop. "I know how to shoot it and I'm a pretty fair shot, but it's been awhile and I was hoping you could give me a refresher course. I need to be a good shot to keep my opponent at bay since I've never handled a vibroblade."

Saying nothing, he walks to the weapon, picking it up for inspection, "This isn't a rifle, it's a Czerka C5 Blaster Carbine. It's much lighter and fires at a faster rate than a rifle though less accurate especially at a distance. It has a fifty round energy cartridge - and that can last much longer if you don't fry the cells by overheating. This one comes with a close range stun setting, and retractable stock so you can use it as a one handed weapon," He demonstrates, pressing his thumb down on the small button at the front end of the stock causing it to fold in on itself, cutting its length in half. Cool, I didn't know it could do that! This and the stun capability will make it perfect for the tight quarters of the ring "Though keep both hands on it if you switch to full auto." He warns and I roll my eyes, of course I knew that; it's basically like an SMG then. Though now that I think about I didn't know the difference from a carbine to a rifle-didn't even know what a carbine was until now; so I can't blame him.

"Alright get over here, let's get your 'refresher course' over with so we can move on to with Stun Staff sparring. The duelist don't use Vibroblades. The Energy Suppressor Fields within the ring are useless against blades. So they use stun batons or staffs." Makes sense when you think about it, wonder why that wasn't a condition in the game in the first place? "When you duel switch to what I taught you if you're forced into hand to hand combat with the baton, until you're competent with a staff."

"Do you watch the duels?" I ask, coming to stand at his shoulder, eager to learn where the stun setting is and how a blaster bolt comes from such a small clip. I had assumed the matches would be too mundane or 'somehow honorless' by Mandalorian standards for Canderous to be interested.

"When I first came to Taris," he admits. "But there's little to no challengers beyond the five. There's no honor in being stagnate when you have already defeated your enemy, not testing yourself against new more worthy foes," Canderous lectures proving my earlier suspicion. "- Among my people 'Dead-Eye Duncan' would not survive the day." He adds as a disgusted afterthought, putting special emphasis on the duelist's title, surprising me so much that I choke out a laugh, biting my lip to try to stop from smiling.

...

I thought Canderous was a hard-ass when he started teaching me hand to hand combat. Now after being shocked by a double ended three pronged staff, he got from who knows where over and over again - he's just an ass. I don't care that it was on the lowest setting! He just kept at it following every failed parry or swing I attempted until I was steaming. With roiling frustration and anger bubbling up my chest these feelings were just about reaching their limit when he jabbed my side following yet another missed swing causing it all to burst forth in an shockwave rolling outwards as I swore. In the blink of an eye all that anger and frustration became physical energy tinted with a red aura that knocked Canderous off his feet his lower half landing safely on the mat while his head and elbows connected with the permacrete floor. He didn't groan or shriek or yell like I did with every jab I failed to block, he just snapped his head back up staring at me surprise and confusion written all over his face.

Stareing back at him, stunned, freaked out and a little petrified I follow his eyes down to my arms still gripping the staff. The skin on the inside of my forearms is glowing faint red symbols similar to the three bumps raised beneath my skin on my back. Before they all faded away leaving me feeling drained as my breath quickens. "You're a Force Adept." Canderous finally speaks, it isn't a question. Tearing my eyes away from my skin to look at him, he's already rising to a crouch, looking guarded similarly to the look he gave me while trying to figure me out in the back alley of the Cantina.

"Yeah," I breathe, admitting it more to myself than him as I plant my staff into the mat to lean on it, my veins continuing to thrum with energy. Well I guess that answers the question if the Hand did anything more to me back on Korriban - I'm screwed. "I didn't mean to do that to you, it was a reflex reaction."

"And your not a Jedi?"

I shake my head. Could possibly become a fugitive from them, though, the pessimist part of me quips mentally.

"Or a Sith?" He adds getting to his feet. Opening my mouth my immediate thought is to answer no, then I hesitated, he saw me glowing red. He's fought Jedi first hand in the Mandalorian Wars. He knows normal Force powers don't do that, and I need to talk to someone about this before I explode. Unlike Zelka, I don't think Canderous would trust the Jedi to find me a cure, handing me over to them believing it was for my own good. Though he would probably think I'm stupid for wanting this power or whatever it is gone, and sure, if I wasn't terrified of the origin or purpose of this new found ability I would think this was awesome... Actually it kinda is anyway - I finally knocked Canderous on his ass! "I was never trained as a Sith, but they are the reason I could do that..."

"They uh took me from my home one night, from my family." I explain my voice unintentionally hitching as my throat constricts, fixing my attention on a spot on the floor beside the mat I clear my throat. Trying to avoid the thoughts that have had me up almost every night this past month. Will I ever see them again? "And did something to me on Korriban... I escaped, ended up here. Still don't know what they wanted me for or what they did to me. Since I can't go home; I ended up here."

"So what, you're hiding here from the Sith and the Jedi?" He asks after a long moment of silence. Well that wasn't the reaction I was expecting? Sure, I have no idea how someone is suppose to react to something remotely like this but still...

"Well, yeah - what else can I do? I didn't ask for this, there's no way I'd have anything to do with the Sith, and the Jedi wouldn't want anything to do with me, since whatever this is, is the product of the Darkside." Considering the Jedi of this era wiped away Revan's entire identity and will attempt to drain the Force from the Exile; I doubt they'll make an exception for me. I almost add before stopping myself.

"There's no honor in hiding from your strength pretending like it doesn't exist Kylie," He scolds me, bending over to scoop up his staff before straightening into what I like to call his 'instructor stance'. He assumes whenever he steps off the mat to have me run through a move by myself over and over again, until my muscles have committed it to memory, only stepping in to correct my stance when nessary. "Hey, I didn't even know I could do that until just now, and I have no clue how to even repeat it."

"Then learn, try to repeat what you just did." He told me simply. And despite my protests, out of fear of messing around with whatever they've done to me, trying to replicate what happened. Canderous even volunteers to be my human guinea pig to throw around. And trust me after 10 minutes of his pestering while I stood there like an idiot trying to concentrate, I really wanted to throw him.

"This isn't working Canderous." I sigh, straightening, reaching my limit of ridiculousness. "I'm more than confident that you could teach me practically anything, 'cept this."

"Hmmm, maybe we should replicate exactly what was going on..." Canderous starts, obviously thinking out loud moving towards the Stun Staffs we laid against one of the room's columns.

Already closer than he is I snatched the staffs in either arm holding them between us, depressing the buttons to have the ends sparking at him. "Hell, no."

Recovering from his surprise, Canderous crosses his arms, leaning back with an amused smirk. "Do you have a problem with that Kylie?" He asks in mock innocence.

"Come on, Canderous there's gotta be another way!" I plead uselessly. Before I'm forced to endure another aggravating spar with the hated spark-sticks with no results, though I think Canderous is letting up on me, either that or I am properly motivated to take to my training faster than usual.

...

"Ladies and gentlemen, draw your eyes to the center ring! We have a special presentation in store for you: You've seen him lose night after night after night. But this time, he's after fresh meat! In this corner I give you Deadeye Duncan!" The announcer shouts through the arena loudspeakers, eliciting a scattered applause throughout the spectator seats above. "And in the other corner, a relative newcomer to the Taris dueling scene. Starting from the ground up, a rookie looking to make her mark on the arena... Young Blood!" Ajuur the Hutt in charge of the duels came up with that one - at least it's better than Dead-Eye or Two Fingers.

The bell, of sorts, goes off. Duncan and I reach for our weapons. I'm quicker on the draw than him since the carbine is just slung over my shoulder as he fumbles to remove his blaster pistol from its hip holster, making this whole situation even more like a funny western showdown with a sci/fi element. Being the first to pull the trigger, I spray full auto trying to knock his shields down. This isn't as impressive as it sounds, considering a carbine still fires blaster bolts, that spit out at about a third of a rate slower compared to an SMG with bullets. Even less impressive when your target just stands there, cringing at the onslaught taking blind and widely missing shots.

This is so pathetic and ridiculous just standing here shooting at the cowering idiot (seriously it wouldn't be so bad if there was at least cover he could hide behind, it'd be somewhat of a challenge then, or more sporting I guess). I let go of the trigger once he gave up firing at me all together just as his shields gave out with a visible fizzle. Crossing the distance between us retracting my weapon's stock and switching to stun, I stopped about ten yards short of him just as he realized I had stopped shooting, lifting his head to blink at me in confusion. "Dude, just forfeit." I tell him, shaking my head. Why the hell is he even doing this, if this is how he handles it?

Because he's a moronic weasel, as evidenced by his chosen response to raise his blaster at me. I watch dispassionately as he falls over convulsing from my stun. Idiot. "It's over! The fight is over! Young Blood has won! But really are any of us surprised? Deadeye losing isn't news. You have to do better than that to impress us, Blood!" The north door of the arena opens and I exit through it, letting the medical droid pass, feeling far from victorious.

Before I can completely leave the arena though, I have to pass by the duelist view screen area within the ring's wall where the rest of the duelist sit checking out the competition, waiting for their turn in the ring. They all turn to stare at me, sizing me up. Keeping my expression neutral I try to ignore them walking up to my locker on the far wall to retrieve my things and return the mandatory dualist jumpsuit armor and shield band.

"I see you got your feet wet in the dual ring." Marl remarks approaching me as I disengage the arm band placing it in the locker. "Not bad... What you did for Duncan took real guts, giving up your advantage, and brains to have your blaster ready if he didn't take the out you offered him. You've got potential, kid, keep it up and you'll go places." He turns away before I can react beyond blinking in surprise. I really didn't think anything about what happened back there was something to be proud of, but that definitely means something coming from the veteran himself.

"Don't get full of yourself, Rookie," Gerlon comments, catching what Marl had said, "Deadeye's a joke, next time you'll be stepping up to the big league. I'll show you what's it's like to fight a real duelist!" He calls over his shoulder taking the stairs two at a time out of the ring. Leaving the locker area to myself since Twitch and Ice had already left, clearly not considering me as more than a speck on their radar. Actually it's surprising to me that Marl and even Gerlon are taking me seriously. All Ajuur needed was the lure of potential credits from letting new blood, so to speak, into the ring to accept me as a duelist. But back home people have always treated me as someone younger than I am, usually I attribute it to my looks or demeanor. I guess I just assumed the other duelist would immediately think I was a joke, just some stupid girl who needed to learn her place. Were they actually impressed with what I did back there, or are they just that desperate for new competition, which means more bets and more 10% in their pocket? Well at least I have some privacy to strip out of this jumpsuit armor and get my clothes back on.

"Master Ajuur always pays his debts. You won, so you get paid. Ten percent of the purse-that was the deal. Here's your credits." Ajuur's droid B2-PD translates for the Hutt depositing a handful of credits into my open palm. "You come back to fight Gerlon Two Fingers as scheduled and maybe you win more." I nod my thanks, before seeking a private corner booth to count my earnings. Honestly when the droid first dropped metallic kit-kat bars of varying size and colors into my outstretched hand I almost demanded real money out of the Hutt right then and there.

Now that I have them laid out in front of me on the table that urge comes back. Each piece is obviously made from several different alloys probably denoting their worth, if I knew what alloys were actually valuable. The symbols lasered into them mean absolutely nothing to me, What am I going to do just plop them on a counter and trust that I won't be cheated?

"Is everything alright? You seem troubled," asks a robed figure who had approached my booth without me hearing him above the music and chatter. Tensing my free hand immediately reaches for the medical bag Zelka gave me, where my carbine is stuffed in. Raising my face from where it had been resting on my hand to look up at a guy around my age around eighteen with a decorative blindfold over his eyes and a light saber attached to his belt. The Miraluka Padawan from the Undercity.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking." I tell him tightly, trying to look relaxed even though I feel like I've just been pulled over for speeding. Can he sense anything about me, is that why he approached me? You know like Vader saying, 'The Force is strong in this one.'

He doesn't take the hint, "That was... some duel." He gestures toward the view screens.

And I can't help but snort, shaking my head. "Yeah, that's one way to put it, certainly wasn't what I was expecting. So is this what Padawan's do on their downtime? Slog back a couple Tarisian Ales while betting on the duels?" I joke, curious despite myself. He was honestly the last person I expected to find here. He's not trying to arrest me yet so I better just try to play it cool for now. Right - I know how to do that...

"Yeah, no." His smile is actually pretty cute on him, uh not that mattered, focus Kylie. "Some of the intern scientists I work with insisted that I finally get out and see the city with them and we eventually ended up here. They wanted me to see the infamous Deadeye try yet again for Gerlon Two Fingers' ranking position, but instead we watched you, and I could've sworn I've seen you before...Weren't you with Dr. Forn in the Undercity a couple days ago? I remember you from the celebratory feast in the village center, you left rather suddenly after my master and I joined the gathering."

"Uh yeah, Dr. Forn and I wanted to travel through the Lower Districts before dark. Sorry we didn't get a chance to introduce ourselves. I'm Kylie." I offer my hand nervously only occurring to me after he hesitates to accept my handshake how an unusual custom it must be to him. When he eventually does take my hand in his, he takes the initiative to cup his other hand over the back of mine and stepping back performs a little half bow like the one Bastila performs to the Council on Dantooine. Still looks as silly now as it did then.

Noticing my poorly suppressed chuckle, he straightens, quirking his head to the side still holding my hand, "Not the proper custom of your world I assume, then?"

"You may have over done it, just a titch." I admit grinning, if I didn't know he was a Jedi I might've thought he was purposely making a fool of himself as a way of flirting. He's obviously trying to put me at ease. Do I look as anxious as I feel?

"May I take a seat? Then maybe the other patrons will stop staring at me." He asks jerking his head to small group of drinkers across the room who are watching us gossiping to each other. How can he tell any of this with a blindfold on? I never bothered to learn much about the weird humans with no eyes, actually thought the whole idea was pretty unimaginative for a species in the star wars verse. Who would ever thought that'd come back to bite me?

"You're a jedi, talking to a girl who just won the weirdest duel ever, alone in a Cantina. People are going to stare." I whisper conspiratorially, before sitting back as my voice returns to normal, "But you can have a seat if you want." It would raise too many questions if I gave him the cold shoulder and ran out again. It was hard enough convincing Zelka to leave the Undercity early the first time. I don't want to raise any more questions about my aversion to Jedi. I can already tell Zelka wants to question it, but so far he's held his tongue. Maybe what Canderous said about me hiding actually got to me. Or maybe I just wanted to actually talk with someone my own age who would treat me as an equal. Not that I didn't appreciate all that Zelka and Canderous have done for me, or that I don't realize how potentially dangerous this is to become something more than just a face to this Padawan that he would otherwise sooner or later forget. You're overthinking it, just stay calm and composed, Kylie, then once you figure out why he's talking to you, decide what to do from there.

"My name's Padawan Fane Benik," He introduces himself while sliding into the booth opposite mine, "You seemed more frustrated than someone who just won a duel," he comments gesturing towards the credits still in a miniature pile on the table between us.

"Well considering they're the only credits to my name, it's better than nothing, but not really enough at the same time. You know?" I'm not looking for his charity, but it's better then admitting that what was bothering me earlier was not knowing the difference from a dollar and a twenty dollar bill so to speak. Not to mention the numerous things I should know but don't, that one of these days will get me killed i.e. not knowing how much time I have before Malak's fleet arrives. The world could literally end tomorrow for all I know.

No I can't give in and wallow in frustration over my ignorance. The only way I can move forward is by learning. There's no stupid questions, right?

"Actually I have a small dilemma that you could help me with, as long as you promise not to laugh." I flatten the small pile, dividing each credit that was comprised of the same colored alloy or same length into it's own groups. "Where I come from... we don't use credits as currency; So, could you um please explain to me which ones are for which amount?" I ask hesitantly, shame heating my cheeks, trying to get a read on him is a lot harder than it would be thanks to the blindfold. Can he even see the credits? Though sitting in the booth directly under a light I can now see his clean cut hair is sandy blonde not the gray it had looked earlier in the shadow of his hood he has let fall down his back now. His facial expression remains hidden, to me though; like he's looking beyond me, contemplating something beneath the skin if that makes any sense.

Well whatever he saw he brokes it off before the look becomes too intense and further my discomfort. Sliding his arm across the table top he pointed to the group with two long golden colored kit-kat bars, "Those are twenty credit chits..." And he continues like that until every group was identified: 2 twenties, 4 fives, and 4 tens. Apparently Ajuur only handles small bills. That, or he purposely tossed them my way to give a false sense, that the more chits, the more the richer I am. "Where are you from, Kylie?" he asks as I collect the credits and deposit them into my bag with my thanks.

"A little rock no one's ever heard of." I answer dismissivly, thinking fast I quickly blurt out the first thing that comes to mind in order to change the subject. "How can you tell the difference between the credit chits without eyes? I mean, uh I didn't mean any offense, when I..."

"Their sizes," He interrupts my babble stating it simply, "Miraluka only see the woven energy of the Force: in beings, plants and the atmosphere. But objects like a credit chit that aren't imbued with the Force are just seen as dark shapes that the colors of the force part around. If I'm ever not sure of the shape I see, I read the laser etching of the chit with my fingers." Cool, does he see color or feature definition as we do? What would it be like to see through his eyes?

"And you're wondering why I didn't just do that myself, read the etching?" I ask once the silence drags out, with the unspoken questions hanging in the air above us, I really shouldn't have asked him to teach me.

"Well considering you don't know Republic currency, and the colors of your aura looked like you were genuinely lost, I assume you haven't had a formal education?" He asks gently, not judging, keeping the pity that has to be there successfully out of his voice.

"No, I mean yes I've had an education... Just not a Republic one, I guess you could say..." I really got to get the hang of thinking before opening my damn mouth. "Just handling Republic currency and reading Basic was lacking..." I explain awkwardly, but is that even true? Sure, I had a high school education, but ask me about the physics behind hyperspace travel, the geography of the galaxy or even the recent history of the past five years and I might as well be an elementary student again. "Wait, did you say my 'aura', does that mean you can see my thoughts or something?"

"An individual's colors change with their emotions, but it's only to the extent that a Human like you could read facial expressions. If someone has more control of their emotions they can easily mask their emotions as someone would their expressions." Great so not only am I uneducated, I can't control my emotions. Crap, this whole time I was like a open book to him, my emotions and intentions broadcast like a flashing neon sign!

"Not that your emotional." He hastily corrects, compounding the feeling my privacy has been invaded.

"So that's why you came over, because of what you saw in my aura? I can't be the first distressed aura you've encountered on Taris." There's something he's not telling me. If he can really see my emotions couldn't he see my apprehension over him, my fear at being exposed? Wouldn't it be his duty as a Jedi to figure out what I'm hiding?

"Yes, but you looked like you needed someone to talk to... We'll talk again Kylie." He promises as he suddenly leaves our booth, leaving me with more questions than answers, and with no doubt that he will keep that promise. I've got a bad feeling about this...


	6. Chapter 6

**Beta Read by:** LMSharp

Man, I need a Coke or at least something sugary with caffeine in it. I never realized how dependent I was on those cans of corn syrup, but I have been craving nothing but ever since I wound up here. Especially as I close up the clinic by myself, I can think of nothing better to nurse my homesickness with right now than sipping on a cold, fizzing drink. Probably would bubble up my nose at first, with that familiar tickle, since it's been so long.

I wish I had gone to sleep with my MP3 that night like I usually do, then at least I could crank my favorites like: TSFH, Linkin Park, Sia; heck, even Reignite, that song by Maluka. Then at least I would have something to distract myself with as I clean up, keeping my mind from wandering back home, where games stayed on the screen and where four sisters, my parents, and a dog were always being loud and invading my privacy, making it feel like I never had a moment to myself... God I miss them.

The clinic's doorbell goes off just as I set the kolto tanks to cycle, refreshing the healing kolto within. Shaking myself from those unhelpful thoughts, I jog out of the back room, passing my cot I just pulled out. I rush to check the security peep-hole display. No one has ever bothered the clinic after closing hour, so my first assumption is there's a seriously injured person at the other side of the entrance. But this is Taris, you don't ever open the door without checking the peep-hole.

The holo screen lights up at my touch, illuminating Fane under my fingertips, dressed in his brown hooded cloak with a small stack of data pads and a thin wooden box tucked in his arm. What is he doing here, is he here for me? Can I pretend I'm not here? "Kylie, open up please, it's Fane." Well, there goes that hope.

Reluctantly I swipe my hand over the console authorizing it to open the entrance, "Is something wrong Fane? How did you know I'd be here?" A poor greeting I know, but I can't squash my apprehension over him being here. There's no point in pretending, when he can see clearly see otherwise.

"I apologize for showing up unexpectedly, but I figured it'd be best to do this in the evenings. When you're not busy helping Dr. Forn and I'm free from my research." He tells me, letting himself in, as I try to figure out how that's an explanation as to why he's here, it's not.

"Do what? You still haven't answered my questions." I remind him as the entrance closes behind us. I know I should probably relax, especially considering if Fane planned to arrest me or something, he would have done it already.

"To begin your studies." He informs me simply, as he lays out the data pads and removes the lid of small box of sand on Gurney's receptionist desk. I just stare at him, somewhat dumbfounded, my brows reaching for my hairline. "We'll start with learning the Aurebesh script of Basic and filling in the gaps of Republic currency. From there, you can decide what else you'd like to learn, if you want."

"Um, I appreciate the thought Fane, but I couldn't ask you to do that..." I try to tell him, regretting my earlier rudeness, when he interrupts my protests.

"You didn't ask, and if you refuse my offer, it would be very rude. So as my Master would say: 'Sit down and pay attention, youngling'." He smiles at me, causing my stomach to stupidly flip-flop. He pulls Gurney's chair back for me, which I sit in hesitantly. Feeling off center and unsure what I should be feeling or how I should react to his generous offer.

"Okay, there are 34 characters in the Galactic Basic Alphabet, not including exclamation points, question marks, et cetera." He starts, pulling a waiting room chair up to the desk to sit opposite me.

...

Before long he has me using the flat box of sand, copying his artfully drawn symbols in it with my chicken scratch. Just the alphabet and my name for now, but there's a certain satisfaction in learning to spell your name in another language. "How'd you know I live here, Fane?" I ask again as I try to pull off the tricky hook in the V like symbol, that apparently is the letter 'Y' in 'Kylie'.

"Dr. Forn told me, after I came to his house asking about you." He answers, after a long moment of silence. The check like symbol, that is the 'L' in my name stretches across the sand as my hand jerks. "He was concerned at first that I was asking after you and wouldn't say much, until I told him that I already knew of your Sith ties."

I freeze, cold panic gripping me as I slowly remove my hands from the sand on the desk, nervously wiping them on my pants. "What made you say I'm connected to the Sith?" I ask distantly, knowing my reaction screwed any chance of denying his claim. My brain flips into overdrive trying to predict the outcomes of this conversation. What I can do or say for this to end peacefully? What will he do now that he knows, that I don't deny my connection with his enemy? "I'm not a Sith, Zelka would tell you as much."

"He did. It was a guess. I gathered by the powerful Dark Side energy I see beneath the surface of your aura. Like with Dark Jedi I've encountered, but somehow different..." He explains thoughtfully, looking straight at me or rather at my aura. I bet it's sparking with numerous conflicting emotions. "He told me he suspected you were a slave on Korriban or forced to be an Acolyte at the Sith Academy before escaping." Does he? Why didn't Zelka ever tell me that? I guess I did make it pretty obvious I didn't want to speak about my past the times he tried to broach the subject while we worked together. But that was only because I didn't want to lie to him. I knew I would be too tempted to confess everything to him, even though I know it would mean telling him he was a NPC in a video game to me before I woke up in his clinic.

"At first when I saw the Dark Side within you that day in the Undercity, I suspected you were a Dark Jedi. So I started asking around about you, trying to confirm it before I informing Master Senob and trying to apprehend you. Then I got to talking to you in the cantina and saw that not only is the darkness within you different from Dark Jedi I have fought, but so are you. It's as if that power isn't a part of who you are but is contained within you..." Blaring Klaxons sound off around the city, making our conversation impossible to continue, giving me a scary sense of déjà vu of when my family used to live in Tornado Alley. Raising the hairs on the back of my neck and quickens my pulse.

"What's happening?" I demand, a sick feeling settling in my gut and rising up my throat. No, not now, shit not now!

"I have to get back to Base, stay indoors!" Fane orders, racing out of the clinic. When the doors part for him, I get a glimpse of the night sky above Taris lit up like the 4th of July. Barely visible silhouettes of massive ships all firing on one, above our atmosphere. The Endar Spire...

"Fane wait!" My yell is drowned out by the sirens and massive artillery fire as the door closes. Everyone gets wiped out in the Republic Base, I have to stop him! Dashing for my carbine in the footlocker near my cot, I toss half its contents to find the damn cartridge! Once my trembling hands lock and load the weapon, I skid to a halt in front of the medical droid's charging port, reactivating it, "Initiate emergency level Red, you have authorization to treat any patients who arrive. Inform Dr. Forn, once he gets here, that I'm headed for the Republic Base!" I call out as I run out the exit, yanking the emergency kit I at least had the foresight to pack and store near the exit.

Knowing I've already lost too much time, I race down the walkway towards the Republic Base. The emergency kit bangs against the back of my thighs. I keep the space battle above in the corner of my eye. Streaking fireballs rain down from the crumbling ship. The escape pods! Crap, I had planned to have the Undercity Villagers prepared to take Bastila in before the Vulkars could get her. One month, one fricking month since I wound up on Taris, nowhere near enough time! I need to catch up with Fane before it's too late; don't look, just run!

I'm making good time until huge fiery red missiles whistle through the atmosphere above my head faster than the speed of sound. Their shockwaves trip me before they collide into a large complex in the distance ahead of me (I remember Zelka telling me it was the Upper City Power Distribution Center). Suddenly all the sound is sucked out of the world as the Center crumbles in on itself in a fiery explosion from the impact. The subsequent shockwave is massive, I can literally see the wave as it rolls through the city. It throws me off my feet backwards. My head connects with the walkway's rail, the only thing stopping me from going over the edge.

Regaining my senses after what feels like a few seconds of blacking out, I stagger back to my feet. A deafening ringing in my ears as I blink away black spots in my vision. Holy hell, my head feels like it's been dented in! The Upper City is pitch dark now, the defense cannons deadly silent. I yell out Fane's name as loud as I can, but the cry sounds faint and muffled in my own ears. I gingerly reach for the back of my head, my hand returns red. Unable to shake my stunned stupor, I stumble forward, knowing I have to keep moving but not really able to get my body to respond to the message in the time I need it to.

Oh no, where's my blaster! Quickly, I dig into my bag, pulling out the equivalent of a flashlight and slipping it over my wrist. I fumble for the 'on' button, blinding myself in the process, panicking idiot that I am. Using its beam, I find the carbine sprawled a few feet from where I landed. Bending over to retrieve it, someone roughly grabs my elbow from behind, yanking me around. Leveling the blaster into his gut, my heart lodging itself in my throat.

"I told you to stay indoors!" Fane reprimands me. His voice sounds muffled to my damaged hearing. His cloak is gone, his Padawan robes are ripped and covered in permacrete dust. What can I possibly tell him so he won't run to the base and his death? I scramble for the answer as I remove my blaster from his gut, yanking my arm free to hold it steady with both hands.

"They'll be wounded on those escape pods, I need your help to get to them!" There, a way to save Fane, Carth and Revan!

He shakes his head, "They're headed for the Undercity; we can't help them if we lose the Republic Base guarding the lift down to them. I think one crashed near the North Housing Sector. Help them. The others will be safer down there than up here, while we're trying to repel this invasion." He starts to turn, stopping mid-step, as troop transports swoop in low overhead, passing us for the base ahead.

He takes off at a run for the base, yelling at me to return to the clinic. I hesitate, fear and panic freezing my veins. I'm no soldier. Zelka will need me at the clinic. Taris's survival depends on me getting Bastila and Revan off planet ASAP and I can start that by helping Carth get Revan to the clinic. Beside that, what can I hope to accomplish against highly trained soldiers, other than getting myself killed in the first five minutes? That's when the sounds of a lightsaber igniting and an unearthly barrage of blaster fire reach my ears.

Revan and Carth will be fine hiding out in the abandoned apartment; Fane will die if I don't do something! Turning off my flashlight, I race towards the sounds of battle, navigating the short distance of damaged walkway in the dark. I skid to a halt once I reach the alleyway that includes the Lower City lift. The alley walls bathed in a bright green glow from Fane's humming lightsaber, mixed with bright flashes of red from the loud barrage of unrelenting blaster fire, making it impossible for Fane to move forward out of the pinched corridor. "You can't take them alone!" I shout out to him, so I won't startle his concentration from deflecting the angry storm of bolts by rushing up to him from behind. I throw myself at the solid cover of the wall of the threshold he stands his ground in.

"I'm not, once I am able to reach Master Senob and the others returning fire in the base, we'll defeat them." He shouts back over the blaster fire in a strained voice. "You're going to get yourself killed!"

"Without a doubt!" I shout back, pointing my blaster around the corner blind firing at full auto, tilting the angle of the gun back and forth to strafe the landing pad outside. "But so are you!" He grunts to that, before gritting his teeth as he presses forward at an angle; so he's standing almost in front of my corner. The blaster bolts that had been pinging off the back wall near me, are now being deflected, so I can actually peek my head out and aim, with less chance of getting it blown off.

Doing so, I return fire, gritting my teeth so hard my molars ache. I forcibly shut down the part of my brain that realizes I'm shooting at Human Beings with the intent to kill or that if Fane's reflexes slip for a quarter of a second, it's game over for me in the worst way imaginable. But amazingly, we actually give the bad guys something to think about. I fire on the invaders while Fane covers me, returning about as many bolts as are shot at him. We're at it for probably a few minutes but to me it feels more like an hour. They are weakening though, even I can tell. Out in the open with absolutely no cover on the walkway, their numbers are divided between us and our Republic allies hunkered in the entrance of their HQ. Fane's Master, the short Sullustan, duels two Dark Jedi single-handedly out in the center of the walkway. Soon the enemies line of defense will weaken enough for Fane to go to his Master's aid, though the little guy looks more than capable of handling them himself. His blue saber is just a blur of light as he parries and slashes at his opponents. We might actually win this!

At that moment my blaster decides to overheat the cartridge smoking as the trigger clicks uselessly, because I stupidly forgot to conserve my shots. "Do you have another cartridge?" Fane calls to me, not looking away from the still oncoming bolts.

"No!" I had debated whether or not to use my duelist prize money to purchase more, but figured I wouldn't burn out that much ammunition in the ring and it'd be smarter to save up for rakghoul resistant armor. What am I gonna do? The only other weapons I have are the stun baton and a stun detonator Canderous had me practicing with for the ring! Hold the phone, "I have a stun grenade!" I cry out, tearing open the bag to retrieve it. "Will it work on them?" Nobody in the ring is this heavily armored. Wouldn't their helmets protect them from the flash? Will the electric shock be enough?

"It could at least disorient them enough for me to close the distance, though hold off. I sense a group heading for us from behind. Are they reinforcements?"

Oh please, let them be, I pray. Pushing off the wall to peek around the corner, only to glimpse more of Malak's troopers thundering their way down the walkway towards us, too many to have a hope of holding out with. "Shit," I swear, thumbing on the detonator and lobbing it at the feet of the Dark Jedi leading the troops in front of the entrance of the alley. "Not our reinforcements!" I shout at Fane, as I throw myself at the lift doors swiping the console. Fortunately it's on our level and the doors part immediately as the reinforcements blindly return fire into our extremely close quarters. Fane throws himself on me causing us both to fall forward into the relative safety of the lift just as a rocket propelled grenade collides with the wall behind us in an explosion of fire that flashes over our heads as the lift doors seal.

Only when we feel the lift moving beneath us and the pinging of blaster bolts denting the durasteel doors ceases does Fane lift himself off me. He's about to roll away when he freezes, "You're bleeding." Quickly tucking his legs beneath him, he crouches beside me, helping me sit up so he can better inspect the back of my head. "You're going to need to get this cleaned soon." He hisses sympathetically, his fingers gently parting my hair near the base of my skull, careful not to touch the broken flesh. "Does your bag contain anything I can work with?"

"Yeah, I've got as many medpacs as I could shove in it." I admit to him shakily, now that adrenaline rush is fading, every bruise and cut is now throbbing for attention. As Fane fishes a medpac out, popping it open on the elevator floor, I reach back starting to undo my tight french braid.

"Here let me." He beckons, after I hiss out in pain, when my fingers accidentally brush against the wound trying to untangle my hair. Taking my hands in his and gently placing them at my sides, he starts freeing my hair with surprisingly brisk and nimble fingers. Once he has my shoulder length raven hair parted over each shoulder, he injects a kolto syringe in the place where my shoulder and neck meet. It feels me with a strange numbing and cooling sensation I felt once before after being treated for a blaster wound. The effects relax my frayed nerves even more than letting my hair down had. The combination of both helping me gather my nerve and finally start to breath easy, at least for the moment.

"I'm sorry that we had to leave the base behind, Fane." I tell him quietly over my shoulder, as he silently works to disentangle the hair matted to the wound with blood. I can barely feel it now that my senses are dulled with the temporary effects of my kolto injection. We just left his Master back there. I instinctively want to reassure Fane that his Master and the others still fighting up there will hold out until we can get back to them, but I know better.

"Master Senob can handle himself; he's a Master with the lightsaber" Fane states, his voice heavy and low as he cleans my wound of the permacrete dust and dried blood with a prepackaged wipe.

"I hope he makes it out okay," I tell him, trying not to give him any false hope but really hoping I'm wrong.

"Same here," Fane answers, before applying the small kolto patch over my wound, speeding the healing process with it's kolto infused synthetic cloth. His breath tickling my ear.

The sound of something massive powering down is followed by the lift violently shuddering. It stops dead mid-floor, jolting us from any more discussion, as the small box we're trapped in becomes pitch black. In the silence my sudden and rapid breathing is the only sound as I flip on my wrist light, my pulse quickening with unwelcome fear.

"Now what?" I ask Fane, the beam illuminating him as he looks around, seeing despite the dark shadows cast everywhere. He doesn't need my light.

"They must have already taken Republic HQ, and initiated a manual lock down on the lift system." He informs me solemnly. Oh, then that means, crap, all those men we were fighting with...

"Do you think Master Senob made it out?" I ask hesitantly, needing to know what he's thinking. "Can you sense his presence?"

"Only when a Force Bond is established can a Padawan sense the death of his Master. Master Senob and I have known each other since I was a boy but a Bonding is rare among the Order." He answers quietly, withdrawing into himself. His brow is drawn beneath his blind fold, his lips are drawn in a thin line, the corners tilting downwards. It's the most emotion (beyond a smile) I've ever seen in his expression, I realize.

"Maybe, he managed to retreat with some soldiers." I offer, hating myself for doing it, when I know better. Though I don't know for sure if he's killed immediately. Maybe he was hiding out when the bombs fell?

"I'm going to boost you to that hatch and then we are going to climb down the rest of the way to the Hidden Bek Base. Convince Gadon to have his men help us get as many cannons operational as we can. Then I can find out what happened to Master Senob." He states firmly coming to a decision. He uses the Force to punch the hatch off above my head. Throwing my bag over his shoulders, he bends at the knees interlocking his fingers together like a stirrup.

"Climb down?" I ask hesitantly. How many levels are there from here to the Lower Districts?

"Yes, is that a problem?" He asks as an afterthought, still waiting for me to step on his hands.

"No," I lie. When I was younger I used to be terrified of heights. Not that I'm not anymore, especially when it comes to free climbing a vertical surface like an elevator shaft.

"We don't have any other choice, Kylie." He nudges me gently, getting what I'm not saying. And I thought I could save Taris. What a joke! I'm faltering at the first obstacle. I am not going to give up now. Taking a deep breath, I nod to him, throwing the strap of my blaster over my shoulders and using Fane's hands as a step stool. He launches me through the open hatch. Catching the hatch's edge in my gut I wiggle my top half forward, and using my elbows as leverage I pull my bottom half out. I turn in time to see Fane leap out and land expertly perched on the edge of the hatch, his arms held out for balance.

Show off, I grumble to myself, feeling ornery for no good reason. Rising to my feet, I walk towards the edge of the box we're standing on. I force myself to take deep breaths, trying to control my racing heart and halt my vertigo before it takes off full gear. Stop my mind from vividly imagining how I could tumble down the seemingly endless shaft, the depths of which my light can't even penetrate. "Shit," I swear. My voice sounding weak and breathless, and I dig my fingernails into the palms of my hands until they start to draw blood.

"Kylie," Fane calls to me somehow he sounds very far away, but concern is clear in his voice as he slowly grabs my shoulder, nudging me away from the edge so I can finally look away. "I'll catch you with the Force if you slip, okay?" He assures me, clearly worrying that I'll give into a full panic at any minute. I hate myself for making him think that, but as pathetic as it is I need that reassurance, white lie or not, to gather my strength and jump for the crisscross steel girders across the way.

...

After the first two levels, after Fane calmly and patiently talks me through why we can't just exit the shaft on any of the levels we pass until we reach the first level of the official Lower Districts, I finally start to calm down. My mouth is dry, my are palms sweating profusely and my limbs are still trembling, but the girders are stacked so close to one another it almost makes the task as simple as descending a gigantic ladder if I just don't look down.

"You're doing great, Kylie." Fane calls to me encouragingly, always a step beneath me. That's when it occurs to me it's only taking us this long to descend because of me, and I don't just mean because of my stupid vertigo. He's a Jedi, he could've easily Yoda hopped his way down in ten seconds flat.

"How much further?" I call back, exhausted. I feel as if I've reached my limit four levels ago.

"Only a few more levels, considering what you managed to read from the level accesses we already passed. We should be reaching the end of the Upper City."

"Oh, thank goodness!" I cry out, resting my sweaty forehead against the cold permacrete beam for a second. awash with relief. Hearing Fane chuckle below me.

Stopping a few levels later I aim my light at the faded lettering beside the doors. From what little I remember of what I learned of the alphabet earlier this evening all I can read is: L***e* *i***i**. I guess that's good since before now all I could read on the other levels was: Upp** *i*y and some numbers. Informing Fane of this he suddenly leaps to the other side of the shaft easily ten yards away, making my heart in leap in my throat. Sticking the landing with catlike grace, he turns around spreading his legs to stand on either cross beam in the opposite corner of me the doors between us. "Once I part the doors, climb through, I'll be right behind you."

Climbing down the last few rungs, getting into position by skirting the edge of the beam running beneath the doors, my back pressing against them, willing myself not to look down as my toes hang over the edge. I nod the go ahead to Fane. The thick durasteel bulkhead parts through the Force being manipulated by Fane, buckling and protesting every inch. "Go I can't keep them open, much longer." Fane orders when I hesitate. Quickly I scoot towards the crack turning around on the thin beam about to lift my upper half onto the floor of the level outside to safety. Safe turning out to be a relative term since when I look up, my hair falling out of my eyes I look straight up the business end of several blasters all trained on me.

"Hey Cineer," I nervously greet the only person I recognize in the armed blockade, as she stares back at me, clearly expecting Sith troopers to charge out of the shaft attacking their first line of defense, not a teenaged girl covered in permacrete dust with blood in her wild looking hair. "Mind telling your friends to lower their blasters?"

"Kylie? Is Dr. Forn with you?" She asks, hopeful but still confused, either ignoring the suggestion or not registering it. At the mention of Zelka I hop up the raised platform that is their ground level. Every barrel follows my movement as I try to get clear for Fane. I shouldn't have abandoned the clinic to Zelka without an explanation. He wouldn't try coming after me, would he? Or come looking for me at the base?

"No, I believe he made it to the clinic safely, but Malak's fleet is already dropping troops on the surface. We barely escaped the Republic Base with our lives." At that moment Fane drops in beside me the doors slam together a split second after his boots hit the permacrete and make everyone flinch. Considering their fingers are already too close to the trigger as it is, I flinch as well.

"Lower your weapons," someone commands, parting the group in front of us, "I think these younglings have had their fill of being shot at." remarks Gadon Thek, emerging in front of us.

"Gadon Thek, I am Padawan Fane Benik. The Hidden Beks helped defend Taris from the Mandalorians. Will your people join us in returning to the surface so we can get the defense cannons reinitialized and link up with any Upper city resistance?" Wow, that was some speech. Not really inspiring but direct, I guess? Not that I could do better, if I was in his place.

"That's a nice plan, boy, but we're past that point." Gadon informs Fane, crossing his arms, "My scouts inform me Malak's entire Command Fleet is in orbit over Taris. So unless you can somehow convince the Republic to try to retake a planet with no tactical significance to them, Taris is lost."

"Not exactly," I speak up, not sure what I can tell these people that will make them believe me without questioning why I know so much, but they're all staring at me now, even Fane, so there's no taking it back. "I saw everything that happened up there. Fane, did the Republic have any ships in orbit of Taris?" He shakes his head, confused.

"That's what I thought, how come I saw in the night sky a Republic Cruiser being fired upon by the fleet even before they launched an attack on Taris? Those were Republic escape pods we witnessed raining from the sky. I think the Sith are after those escape pods. Why else would they commit so much of their fleet to Taris, when everyone admits this planet has little to no tactical value?"

"So, you propose that if we get whatever was on this Republic ship, we use it as a bargaining chip to convince the Republic to commit their forces here?" The mob boss Gadon extrapolates, stroking his chin in thought.

No, that's the worst thing you could do! "I was thinking more along the lines of getting it off Taris and making sure Malak knows. So he'll at least move the bulk of his fleet from Taris and he won't feel inclined to bomb the city, or start mass executions when we prevent him from finding what he wants."

That thought startles Fane and most of Gadon's men. It obviously never occured to them that Malak would go that far. Oh man, are they in for a nasty surprise. I agree adding mass executions is melodramatic, but I have to drive my point home. "If it's worth invading a planet for, I doubt Malak is going to patiently wait until it's found, espcially if the Republic joins the fight."

"They won't leave when they have us over a barrel, I say we find out what he wants and give it to him. What has the Republic done for us?" Gadon's Twi'lek bodyguard speaks up, who's name escapes me but I remember she was very protective of Gadon and paranoid for his safety.

"And you really think a Sith would just leave, regardless of getting what he wants, when he has this planet in the palm of his hand? We get it off Taris, this planet at least has a fighting chance." I rebuke her harshly, interrupting whatever Gadon had to say in my haste to derail that line of thought.

"And what if Malak decides to exact retribution on this planet for us helping whatever or whoever get off this planet?" she bites back at me, "I've heard about you: a farm brat from Ord Mantel who thinks she's big stuff now that's she's beat Deadeye. You have no idea what you're talking about, youngling."

"Considering we don't know for sure if there is anything of value crashed in the Undercity, this argument is pointless." Gadon interupts raising his hands. "We need to focus our efforts on linking up with Upper City Security and repelling the invasion above. Two small teams will head for the Republic ship crash site and the escape pods in the Undercity, bringing any wounded or anything of value to our HQ. Padawan Benik will join the bulk of our people on the surface. Zaerdra, you'll continue to hold the line here," he informed the Twi'lek. She didn't like it. "Cineer you'll lead the group down to the Undercity, and Dragor you'll lead the group to the crash site."

As our make shift war council starts to disperse I trot over to Cineer, leaving Fane to deliberate with Gadon. "Cineer, I've been training as a medic and I know the people in the Undercity. You'll need me."

"Oh, 'I'll need', will I?" She remarks, as she turns from some people she was giving orders to. "Becoming a duelist, being among the first to fight the Sith on Taris and talking back to Zaerdra? You've come a long way from that that scared kid who managed to yank a blaster from that Vulkar." She chuckles, "Come on, let's get you in some armor."

This is definitely not what I planned to happen, but if I can get Bastila, Revan and Carth together sooner and steal the Ebon Hawk with Canderous' help... We might actually save Taris.


	7. Chapter 7

**Phew! Finally got this one posted, this chapter has definitely taken the longest to post then pervious chapters in this story, and I'm really sorry for that. Especially after getting such positive reviews from Red Dog Krim and masterdude94, thanks so much for taking the time to let me know what you thought of my story :) And a big thanks for those who've faved and followed this! Hope you guys like this one, I struggled with it more than I had with the chapters preceding it and am still a bit nervous how it turned out. But that's technically always true of each new post of mine. ****If you want please let me know what you think. **

**As before, despite having her own fanfics and college studies, this was thankfully read by my beta reader LMSharp. Without whom this story would suck to read. Though that said, I tend to miss details when redrafting, so any errors are mine.**

"Geez, why do they have to make putting on this friggin' jumpsuit so hard!" I grunt, while attempting to balance on one leg and pull up the first leg of Cineer's light armor suit she's letting me borrow. With a sharp jerk, I try to get the skintight legging of the suit past my knee. I manage it, but fail to control my momentum, and can't stop myself from tipping over. My shoulder slams into the wall of the closet sized bathroom as I prop my elbow against it to stop myself from sliding down the durasteel wall.

Hearing my struggle through the door, Cineer chuckles in her quarters, "You sound like you've never put light armor on before, duelist."

"One time, doesn't make it any less frustrating to put on!" I call through the door. She barks out a laugh. It's my fault this time though: I was in so much of a rush I forgot what I learned the first time. You have to roll the leggings like you would a pantyhose but instead of tipping your toes in first, you hook the loop around the bottom of your boot than slowly pull it up, extending your heel downward.

I can't wait to get my hands on some real armor. Sure, this light armor will keep my upper torso protected with plates of plasteel stitched between tan Kevlar-like fabric capable of stopping blaster bolts, even a blade. But the thick spandex-like cloth covering my arms and legs, I doubt the fabric can withstand the pounds of pressure behind a rakghoul's bite or their razor-sharp claws, though. Not to mention I really hate how it rides up my...

"Use my suit powder, on the shelving behind the wall panel, the round container with a yellow lid." Cineer informs me. Before adding sarcastically, "You're welcome, by the way. That's the best 'jumpsuit' I own."

"Uh, that's not what I...I do appreciate this, Cineer." I cringe, before quickly changing the subject. "Hey, can I use your communicator to try to contact Dr. Forn? So I can make sure he's okay, and let him know that I'm fine."

"Sorry kid, the Sith started jamming communicator frequencies sent to anyone on or off Taris a while ago. Our people are still trying to figure out how to modulate our frequencies to compensate." She explains as I step out of the bathroo-, uh, I mean refresher, decked out in her tan reinforced vest, with silver sleeves and leggings. "Ah, good it fits." She comments approvingly, looking me up and down. I'm not so sure, it's a bit too long in the legs, causing the leggings to seriously wrinkle, no matter how much I try to smooth it down. Her hips are also narrower than mine, making the pants tight around my rear, I really hope it doesn't look as tight as it feels; I'd die of mortification before I even meet a rakghoul. "Come on, we need to stock up at the armory, before we leave for the Undercity."

Exiting the peace and quiet of her private quarters within the Bek base, I follow Cineer back into the fray of the Beks preparing for war. Everyone is shouting orders or reports to one another, running this way and that. I bump shoulders with more than one of them, as they rush pass me and Cineer, making their way through the base's winding corridors carrying weapons, and other gear. Their faces are set in grim determination, entirely focused on the tasks each has at hand.

One of the doors we pass suddenly opens at my shoulder and I only have enough time to catch a blur of movement in my peripheral vision before I'm knocked on my ass. The runner that bulldozed me over only spares me a backwards glance as she continues to dash down the T intersection of the corridor. "Geez!" I shout after her. My tailbone shooting pain up my spine. Who lit a fire under her?

Looking back at the room she exited. The people within spare me an unconcerned and brief glance before returning their focus to the holo war table in the center of the room. Accepting Cineer's offered arm I get to my feet just as the man in charge within the room shouts, "Inform Junta Sector's blockade that we intend to breach the surface from their lift by 2200, and get your ass back here before than!" He orders one of the boys standing at attention at the edge of the room, who immediately nods before racing out of the room. Fortunately I know what's coming this time, and side step out of his way in time to watch him race past us. I continue down the hall myself, a step behind Cineer. "The more I learn of the Beks the less you guys fit what I assumed a 'gang' to be."

"Cause we're not, whatever people call us." Cineer chuckles scornfully, glancing back at me from the corner of her eye before flicking her gaze forward again. "The Hidden Beks are the government of Lower Taris. We have been ever since the nobles above abandoned us, after the civil war, and made it illegal for Non-Humans to own property or work on the surface levels. The Upper City has all but forgotten us, and they don't have the funds to clear out crime or repair the falling apart sectors. Not to mention even lift a finger to the help those dying every day from starvation and the plagues that roll in every now and again from too many people stuffed in too small of a space, unfiltered ventilation...the list goes on. Gadon uses the Beks profits to pay our maintenance people to restore power when the out of date system causes rolling brownouts, or to patch the sewage pipes that are rusting and falling apart behind these fraking walls! Gadon provides a bunk and warm meals for us Beks, and it's the Beks that enforce our law and protect the rights of the District's citizens. If it hasn't already been made obvious to you, you'll realize that Taris is split into three separate worlds...the Beks who resisted the Mandalorians until the Jedi arrived to run them off. We know how to play the role of the Resistance, and we will not accept the rule of the Sith any more than we do the Nobles."

"Cineer! Cineer, wait up!" A very familiar voice calls from behind us as I hear the clumping of running boots draw closer. It couldn't be... could it be her?

"What is it you want, Mission? We don't have much time." Cineer informs the 5'3 blue Twi'lek, stopping short and turning to face Mish as she jogs towards us, trailing a lumbering seven-foot walking carpet behind her. Everyone in the bustling corridor gives the Wookie and his charge a wide berth as they make their way down the crowded hall. Awesome, I finally get to meet Mish and Big Z! And they're even cooler in person! Sure, they look exactly like their animated selves, but so much more vividly real, from Mission's perky diminutive facial features and shining mischievous eyes to Zaalbar's thick and plush looking fur that I immediately have to check myself from reaching out to touch, just to feel its texture. As I look up into his big deep brown eyes, I'm a little shocked at how sad they look deep beneath the surface, like the shame of being branded a Mad Claw has forever marked him and hunched his broad shoulders in shame. I've never given much thought to the saying that 'eyes are the window to the soul,' but that changes as my favorite Wookie stands over me regarding me suspiciously with the most soulful eyes I've ever seen. He's no doubt wondering who I am and why I'm gaping at him. But I can't help it, they're fricking Big Z and Mission Vao! Along with HK and Jolee, they're my favorite characters from the entire game, and here they both are right in front of me, meep!

"We heard you're heading into the Undercity and we want to come," Mish informs Cineer, ignoring me for the moment, which is good since I need the time to wrestle down the bubbling giddiness threatening to spill over. A toothy grin is trying to split the neutral expression I'm fighting to keep up as my lungs tighten in a desperate attempt to hold a demented girlish squeal in my throat. Get a grip, and for the love of all that is sane, breathe! You're embarrassing yourself, Kylie. "Big Z and I have explored the wastes out there and the sewers, we can help."

"You've been exploring the- " Cineer admonishes the fourteen year old Twi'lek, who immediately scrunches her face into a pout as the Human woman snaps her head up to the towering Wookie, planting her fists on her hips. "I expect such recklessness from her, but Zaalbar why don't you stop her instead of letting yourself get dragged along in her foolish so-called 'adventures'?" He chuffs an unintelligible growl to my ears, but his exasperation is clear in the noise.

Mission's pout immediately snaps into a fuming glare, "Hey, I make my own decisions! Big Z is my friend, not my babysitter!"

"The Undercity is swarming with rakghouls, so much so that the Outcasts avoid it like the, the waste it is! And you decide that it would be a fun place to explore?!" Cineer demands incredulously, when someone puts it that way, my plans with Malya do sound incredibly reckless. We didn't even have a Wookie in our plan.

"Big Z and I, can and have handled the rakghouls just fine. Some appreciation you have there, Cineer. We were just offering to help." Mission grumbles self-righteously, crossing her arms, looking hurt, but trying to hide it with indignation.

I think Cineer sees this, cause her shoulders sag, the fight leaving her, as she raises a hand to her forehead, sighing. "I know, and you have proven you can handle yourself Mission, and I'm sure Zaalbar would never let you be in harm's way, if he didn't know he could keep you safe. As a friend." Cineer adds diplomatically. I get the feeling this is an old hat between the three. "But that doesn't mean you're impervious to the dangers down there. You keep putting yourself in unnecessary danger and it won't be long until you find a danger not even your big friend can handle."

"Yeah, yeah, so does that mean we can tag along?" She answers dismissively. "What's your deal anyway, enjoying the show? Don't you have something better to do with your time?" Oh, she's talking to me, I guess it is kinda weird that I've just been standing here watching this private exchange.

"Oh, sorry, but..." I stammer, startled out of my viewer mode. Remembering I'm a part of this now, no longer the passive gamer behind the screen.

"She's waiting on me to show her to the Armory, she's going to be the team's medic." Cineer speaks up for me, "Kylie, this is Mission Vao and Zaalbar. Mission, Big Z this is Kylie Fletcher from Ord Mantel. She's been working for Dr. Forn and fought at the Republic Embassy, before it was taken."

"That's where I've seen you before," Mish suddenly exclaims, like she just found the missing piece of a puzzle. "You're Young Blood! Everyone's saying that you've actually made Deadeye Duncan reconsider his choice in career! Impressive, losing to Gerlon over and over didn't even do that."

"Um, thanks. We don't have a lot of time, so you better come with us to get armed."

"Hold up, I didn't say they could come." Cineer interjects, before we can start moving, and stop interrupting the flow of traffic in the bustling hall.

"Come on Cin!" Mish exclaims, heaving a melodramatic sigh.

"We could use their help, seeing as they know the wastes so well." I add helpfully. I want keep an eye on them. I'm running against the clock since I couldn't prepare for the invasion like I had wanted. Now my only hope of saving Taris is to strip Revan's time spent on Taris to the bare bones: steal the Sith codes, the _Ebon Hawk_, and get the hell out of Dodge with everyone. It's not much of a plan, I'm really just making it up as I go. There's so many unknown variables, anyway, messing with the storyline, creates to gum up the works. But it's the only card I have to play, with over 7 billion lives as the stake. How the hell did I get in this position? I was supposed to stop things from ever getting this far! No don't focus on that, I'll lose my nerve, same as looking down that endless elevator shaft. Just stay focused on the task at hand.

"Alright, alright," Cineer surrenders, raising her hands, "But Mission, you follow my orders to the letter, you go wandering off by yourself down there and..."

"Good, let's go!" Mission perks up, hooking her arm in mine, taking the lead for the armory. "So you haven't been to the Lower Districts often, otherwise we would've met already. So how about you remind me to give you a tour once things settle down in the districts?" She informs me as we walk side by side, her (what are they called, lekku I think?) swinging behind her shoulders with each step.

"Okay, sounds like fun." If there's still a Taris by then. "Why do you want to join us for the Undercity, anyway?"

"Anything's better than sitting at our Kip, waiting for the Sith to try and bust down the door, right? 'Sides, Gadon wouldn't let us join the team going top side." Ah, I wonder what they would be doing if I hadn't convinced Gadon to send a team down, now? "So, you're from Ord Mantel? How does Taris compare?"

"Uh, ronto Ranches, wide open spaces, quiet. Very different from Taris." I falter, immediately trying to draw on what little I know of the planet, from my experience with SWTOR. "Sorry, but I got to go talk to my friend real quick. Meet you guys at the armory? It's not far from here right?" I interrupt after spotting Fane in what looks to be a speeder garage. It looks like he's prepping for the mission topside with several other Beks.

"Make it quick, the armory is at the end of this corridor, turn right then take the first left, keep going down until you reach the green lift, then... Just make it quick, we'll wait here." Cineer sighs after me, giving up the notion that I'll find my way on directions alone. I smile, nodding before I jog over to the young Jedi meditating apart from a group of antsy Beks double checking their gear and weapons. I slow to a stop three feet from where he sits cross-legged on the grease and oil stained durasteel floor. The permacrete dust and sweat has been washed from his skin and hair which now sticks up at odd angles yet to be brushed back down in the clean-cut style he usually keeps it.

"Psyching yourself for the fight to break for the surface?" I blurt out over my first instinct to wait patiently until he breaks the meditative trace. "Shouldn't you be wearing some kind of armor?" I add, concerned, gesturing towards his now clean but still slightly torn Padawan robes.

"Not meditating, reaching out." He murmurs, before fully returning to himself, angling his head to look up at me. "Besides, this is meant as a stealth recon mission only. To determine how many still resist the Sith on the surface, and get them organized to coordinate our counter attacks, launched down here. There shouldn't be any fighting for me to need armor that restricts my movement. The Beks behind me are going to test the occupying forces while I conduct my reconnaissance unnoticed."

"By yourself? Wait, what do you mean by reaching out?"

"I was attempting to reach out, through the Force, to Master Senob." He informs me distantly, dusting himself off as he rises to his feet.

"Oh, then I take it, you didn't..." I begin, before he cuts me off.

"No, I did not locate him." He informs me brusquely, turning his back to me to retrieve his pack on the floor where he had sat.

"Fane, I know you have to find out what happened to your Master, but you shouldn't go out there alone." I tell him hesitantly, as he slips the pack over his shoulder. I don't like the idea at all, but what's really bothering me is his sudden cold demeanor towards me. "Fane..."

"I work better alone, Kylie." He says, still not turning to face me, "That way I can't be held back from doing what I need to do." He says quietly, accusingly, before walking away. Leaving me standing here confused until his meaning comes around to sucker punch me in gut.

"Is everything alright?" Cineer asks as I rejoin them, lost in my own thoughts, barely noticing Mish and Big Z looking on, curious.

"He, blames me for not being able to fight alongside his Master at the Embassy... Because he had to protect me..." I inform her numbly. I know I did the right thing, Fane was going to die at the Embassy. If I didn't join him, would the delay of giving me reading lessons, a surprise attack from the front, given the Embassy enough of an upper hand to turn the tables, if he hadn't been held up when I went after him? If I had just remembered to conserve my shots, let the carbine have a cool down period...

"He's wrong," Cineer says suddenly but firmly, startling me from my train of thought. "Malak's entire Command Fleet is up there, the Republic Embassy and everyone within it had no chance. He'll see that too, or else he's no Jedi." She claps me on the shoulder, giving me a sympathetic look. "He just needs time to grieve. Jedi are supposed to be free of the burden of emotions, but they're still people like you and me. Come on, we definitely need to get a move on, now."

We arrive at the armory before I even realize it, I'm so caught up in my own thoughts. I know if it wasn't for me Fane would be dead, though if it wasn't for Fane I would be dead. And if it wasn't for me Fane would have been at the side of his mentor, his father figure. If I was in his place, hell yeah I would resent the person who prevented me from being there for someone I care about. But being at the other end, I can keenly feel how unfair that is.

"Cineer, is it true?" Demands a tan and beige Zabrak. He's apparently been waiting for her, fully armed and armored, along with a female Kel Dor and male Duros, equally geared up. He looks younger than the other Beks present in the small room with wall to wall weapons, maybe around 24 years old. I take a second look at the various armor suits, vibroblades, carbines, blasters and grenades attached to the walls and laid out on the center counter. Geez. Makes me wonder yet again if I'm really in some gang's warehouse or a military HQ. "We're going down to the Undercity to pick over escape pods?" The Zabrak questions incredulously.

"That's our orders, Keiro. Straight from Gadon. You don't like it, take it up with him." She answers in her usual brusque manner. She picks up a round, flat, metallic disk with each hand before turning to shove them both in mine. "Kylie, you're transporting the Frag Mines."

"Frag Mines?" I ask worriedly, holding the thick, inert, metal disks out like they're radioactive. Seriously just plop explosives in a my hands, just like that?

"We need a first line of defense from rakghouls, while we're busy stripping the pods for parts." She informs me, reaching for extra carbine cartridges. "Don't worry, nothing will set them off unless they're armed. You could even drop them - but don't." She adds hurriedly. She gives me a critical look over her shoulder, second guessing her choice. I nod curtly, carefully finding room for eight of them in my emergency kit, not giving her a chance to change her mind.

"You've got to be kidding," Keiro butts back in, not letting his disgust with our mission go. "There's an invasion force up there about to pour out into our streets, and we're being sent as a salvage team!"

"Whatever crashed down there, the Sith are after. Gadon wants us to get to it first." Cineer replies handing me some of the cartridges which I immediately tuck away into the compartments of my belt.

"Not to mention, there's wounded Republic soldiers down there that need our help." I add. I have to make sure we don't stop looking even when our packs are full with salvaged tech, not until we find Bastila. Anyway the fact that those people need us should be a good enough reason to take the time to go down there. Keiro clenches his jaw, looking like he wants to argue more, but one harsh look from Cineer changes his mind.

"Nakina, our large friend could use a vibroblade appropriate for his size. That Bowcaster on his back won't be much help when the rakghouls get up close." Cineer orders the Kel Dor, who nods retrieving the huge hilt of a vibroblade from the top of the wall of vibroblades. Big Z grabs it in his gorilla like hands, treating it as a much lighter object than Nakina had. To inspect it Zaalbar presses a button that causes a blade nearly as long as my leg and as wide as the width of my palm to unfold itself, vibrating with contained energy. Much like Sulu's Katana did, in that Star Trek movie by J. J. Abrams, when he and Kirk were fighting the Romulans on the drilling platform. I've got to have one!

"Avrum," Cineer addresses the Duros, "See if you can find a light armor that will fit Mission, please." He answers something in his own language. I stop paying attention to what the others were doing at this point though. I'm drawn in by a wicked looking vibro hilt my size. Then a gleam of reflected light from the counter on my left gets my attention. Oh no way, it's a cool silver, grey helmet with the smallest silt of a slanted visor. It looks like it's glaring you down. The five vertical metal slits sticking out just beneath the tinted visor, somehow giving it the impression of bared teeth, cool.

Quickly pulling out my ponytail I twirl my hair into a small bun at the base of my skull. I wish I had some bobby pins to keep it from falling out, like it already threatens to, oh well. I slip the helmet over my head now that my hair is out of the way. The anticipation I had plummets. The heavily tinted visor makes it near impossible to see anything in the helmet. That sort of bobbles loosely around my head, the only light of the outside world entering through the bottom seam below my chin.

"You don't know how to put one of those on, do you?" The Zabrak, Keiro asks scornfully, startling me from behind. How long has he been there?

"Uh no, but I can figure it out." My embarrassed answer comes out muffled through the mask. He lets me fiddle with it for a few seconds before letting out an impatient puff of air, muttering under his breath something about being stuck with the greenies on salvage while everyone else is fighting. He reaches for my neck. I stiffen, uncomfortable with the uninvited trespass of my personal space. I'm unsure how to react, until he pinches the excess fabric around my neck, pulling it up towards the bottom of the helmet and pressing down several small clamps I hadn't realized were at the lip of the helmet. They immediately suction the helmet to the suit, and he presses a button on the outside of the helmet near my right ear, causing a cool blue HUD to light up the visor. This immediately allows me to see the room around me. Stats highlight every weapon present even the blade concealed in, Nakina's right boot. Red circles, pinging weak spots in Keiro's armor and though I still can't read Basic I'm pretty sure these lettered and numbered stats around his body highlight his heart rate and adrenaline levels. "Whoa, now this is cool." I breathe. My voice coming out with an echoed, tinny quality. Unable to stop myself, I call to the Twi'lek across the room getting fitted with her own armor, "Hey Mission, how do I look?" planting my fists on my hips, striking a purposely ridiculous pose.

"Awesome Kylie, you look totally badass!" Mission calls approvingly, laughing, Keiro rolls his eyes. I guess I'm not doing much to disprove the 'greenie' vide me and Mish are giving off.

"Come on, let's link an arm band shield to your get-up," He says, grabbing my elbow to direct me towards the wall opposite the counter, before adding cynically. "You're going to need all the help you can get."

...

We approach the Outcasts Village with the inhabitants already anxious and confused, seeing us doesn't reassure them. Many retreat for the safety of the hollowed out center column that is their village center. Scooping up their children as they rush to distance themselves from our march. I guess we do look kind of intimating, all eight of us armed and more or less armored. Clearly they think we mean business, and considering few people topside have done these folks any favors, well I don't blame them for being wary of our intentions.

"Why is everyone running for cover?" Mission asks concerned, as she walks beside me. Nobody answers her. The whole team on edge now. Zaalbar slows his pace to walk in front of her as a Wookie shield if she should need one. Something isn't adding up, they wouldn't be clearing the streets, well, paths, in such a desperate hurry if they were just concerned about our intentions.

"They know what's coming." Keiro at the front of our group comments ominously, stopping short to pull his blaster rifle from the magnetic holster on his back. Everyone quickly follows suit. I don't understand why I have my carbine out until the remaining group of Outcasts ahead takes note of us, and immediately scatters in all directions. As they part, I see a large group of Black Vulkars, maybe around eleven of them. Their leader was talking with Gendar, the leader of the Outcasts, before the villagers started running. It only took a second for things to turn into a Mexican standoff, with Gendar standing in the middle his hands, outstretched between us. Trying to prevent the invisible walls between us from clashing together, resulting in an open fire fight in the middle of his village, crap.

"Please, we want no part of your fight here!" Gendar calls. His voice ringing out loud and clear in the sudden dead quiet of the ghost town his village has become. But this isn't a ghost town. They are plenty of men, women and children who have nowhere to escape stray bolts beside the rakghoul infested wastes beyond the gate. My first thought is to lower my weapon, to do whatever I can to give the Vulkars a reason not to open fire. Not just for the sake of Gendar and the villagers, but both sides have absolutely no cover, just poor concealment provided by the lean-tos flanking us, constructed from nothing more than cloth and thin scrap. But as I look into the set faces of the Vulkars across from us my new HUD outlining every weapon, blinking red warnings I can't read. I let the idea of lowering my weapon go. At least until the murderous hatred, most of the Vulkars present glare at us shows some sign of dissipating. Adrenaline and fear dump into my veins by the bucketful as I realize this is going to turn into a bloodbath.

"We don't want to start a fight here, Gendar." Cineer calls, her aim never wavering. "If the Vulkars agree to leave the village peacefully, we'll do the same and pick this up somewhere else." Is she serious, they'll never agree to leave especially when they outnumber us by three guns!

"Ha, typical Bek!" The leader mocks, a Devaronian oozing arrogance. This just gets better and better. "You're clearly at a disadvantage here, and you have the gall to make demands? Just like your blind and ancient leader, who's deluded himself into thinking he can still lead! We are not leaving, you and yours' will die here just as your decrepit leader! Open fire boys!" All hell breaks loose.

Gendar is the first to get hit, he dove for the ground as soon as the words left the Devaronian's mouth, but I saw him take a hit before he hit the ground, hard. Cineer screams over the din for everyone to scatter, the first of us to return fire. Before I even have time to register movement in the corner of my eye, Avrum the Duros in our group hooks his arm around my waist tackling me to the ground behind a lean-to on our right. I can feel the bolts punching my shield on our way down, my HUD blinking an energy level nearing rock bottom. Immediately after we hit the ground Avrum's propping himself up on his elbow to reach within the abandoned lean-to to pull out and tip over a thick scrap of durasteel converted into a four-inch tall by two and a half feet wide table. Propping it up on it's side into the dirt we now have cover. How the hell did he spot that inside the tent during all this, I would have to ask him later.

Hoping the durasteel is thick enough to hide my head behind without a bolt puncturing it, I desperately search for the others as Avrum returns fire over the edge. I know I need to back him up, but I have to make sure that Mish and Big Z are okay. There's Cineer and Nakina returning fire on the opposite side of the path laying as flat as they can on the ground behind their lean-to with no real cover. Keiro lies on the path between us with too many holes in his torso, a pool of blood forming beneath him. I forget to breathe as I stare at his inert body to shocked to think, to move.

A large brown object streaking diagonally towards the village center in the corner of my eye, draws my attention away from the body to spot Zaalbar with Mission scooped into his arms. Crap, did she get hit? Spotting large puffs of dust sparking at the sprinting Wookie's heels spurs me into action. They'll never make it to the safety of the column if we don't provide cover fire.

Flipping onto my stomach, propping my elbows into the ground to steady my aim I peek out the opposite side of cover from Avrum, targeting all those whose barrels are aimed in the general direction of Big Z. What the hell is their problem anyway, targeting someone fleeing the fight with a fourteen year old in his arms. They're going to regret ignoring those of us returning fire, I'm going to make sure of it.

Big Z and Mission make it the safety of the village center, but now all the Vulkar's attention is focused on us. The round bulges dented into our small table getting bigger and more stressed, it won't take much more. I can see the bolts, I assume from Big Z's bowcaster adding to our fire, though. Hopefully that means Mish is okay.

Above the blaster fire and enemy shouts I can barely make out Avrum shouting something to me in his native tongue. "What, I don't understand?" I shout back at him shaking my head. He gestures over to Nakina who has left Cineer's side to swiftly weave from one lean-to to the next, circling on the Vulkars flank. Looking back to Avrum who has risen to one knee, gesturing at himself before pointing to the right. "Okay, I'll cover you!" I nod to him, hoping I'm right in assuming that he wishes to help Nakina flank the Vulkars, and that it will actually work.

Reaching into one of the pockets on my belt I pull out one of the few grenades I got from the Bek armory. Thumb it on, count to three, just like Canderous taught me. Standing I lob it the distance between the Beks and me. Drawing all their fire on my now regenerated shields as Avrum covertly leaves our cover to circle around. I jump back behind cover just as my shields fizzle out, to feel the soil beneath me rubble from the explosion.

Doing my best, but unable to completely block out their screams of pain. I clench my carbine even tighter as I lay suppressive fire on those still fighting, biting down hard on my lip to distract myself from the two dead bodies and a third writhing in pain in the blast radius of my grenade. If they spot Avrum or Nakina we're all screwed, you're not doing anything they wouldn't hesitate to do to us. Telling myself that doesn't make it any easier, but catching a glimpse of Keiro's body in my peripheral vision does reinforce the stakes to me.

As I tuck my head back behind cover to switch my burned out cartridge with a fresh one from my belt, I hear an increase in blaster fire, and since my cover is no longer being pelted I hope that means Avrum and Nakina have successfully made their move. I've just locked the cartridge in when Nakina's calls out an all clear, her voice deep and gravelly though her enviromental mask, but it rings out like sweet relief through the sudden silence.

I don't know what to do with myself now. After slowly peeking out from behind the upturned table numbly rising to my feet. I look around in a daze before spotting Cineer crouched on my left, gently closing Keiro's death stare. I won't be able to handle seeing him, seeing anyone like that right now. Even so my eyes, of their own free will stare out at what's left of the Vulkars. The aftermath of my actions, my grenade. Avrum and Nakina stand over the bodies, making sure they're dead, I think I'm going to be sick. My eyes come back to focus when I see one of the bodies move, clutching at his side in pain, but he's not with the Vulkars. He lying several feet ahead of the group - Gendar!

Taking off at a run, I drop to my knees beside him ripping open my medic's kit. Misreading my intentions, Gendar rears up ready to fight me even though he's clearly in a lot of pain. "I'm trying to help." I tell him, raising my hands in surrender before quickly removing my helmet.

"Miss Fletcher?" Gendar asks, stunned to see me behind the helmet, and as one of the people that brought this bloodshed to his doorstep. He clenches at the area above his left hip with a torn piece of his tunic, trying to prevent any more blood from running freely down his side.

"I...I"m sorry, I came here to help the wounded on those escape pods that crashed down here. I...I didn't mean for this to happen, that they would be here." I babble, sick to my stomach. I should have known they were down here, they were the first ones to get to the pods after all. And they certainly kept their war with the Beks up even now that there's was an occupation on the surface. Why would they care about the war above now, when there's profit to be made down here?

Gendar doesn't respond to my useless apology, just stares back at me bewildered and in pain. "I need to stop the bleeding." I tell him, my voice still shaking, I know my apology does little good for him or Keiro. Injecting a kolto filled syringe near the wound and pressing a large kolto patch to stem the flow is the best I can do until I get him to Pacini the Outcast healer. I've never treated a blaster wound at the clinic before. I just hope Pacini has what she needs to treat him.

"Avrum, I need help." I call out, and the Duros appears at my shoulder, immediately crouching down to help Gendar to his feet. He slings the man's arm over his shoulder, taking on most of the Human's weight. Even with the kolto and Avrum being as gentle as he possibly can, it's obvious Gendar's in a lot of pain. Cineer and Nakina soon join us. Cineer taking Gendar's other arm over her shoulder as I run ahead to find Pacini in the village center. I get halfway there before almost tripping on another body, a girl the same age as me with her long raven hair coming loose from its bun, a blaster burn in her back...

I'm still standing over her, just staring at the body, my veins turned to ice. When they catch up with me Gendar slung between them and Nakina in the rear with her blaster, watchful for anymore surprises. "Shaleena..." Gendar breathes out softly, full of sorrow when he sees the body. Shaleena, why does that name sound familiar? No, crap, she's that sweet girl in-game that dreamed of seeing the surface...

My eyes sting from unshed tears welling up now that I don't have a fight to distract me from realizing what I made happen. "Kylie, go find the healer." Cineer barks at me to move, making me jump. Wiping at my eyes with the back of my wrist, my fingers literally stained with blood, I nod before taking off at a sprint for the column. Don't think about it, just don't.

"Where's Pacini? Gendar's been hit!" I call out as soon as I burst into the dark interior of the large pillar. As my eyes start to adjust to the lack of light I spot a bowcaster aimed at me Zaalbar at the other end, keeping himself between Mish and I. Thankfully she looks unharmed and Big Z lowers his weapon once he sees it's me. "You two okay?" I ask, just in case, as Pacini abandons the Outcast she was treating for a twisted ankle, and rushes pass, me her medical kit in hand.

"Yeah, Big Z scooped me up and started running before the Devaronian even finished speaking." Mission answers resentfully, stepping out from behind her unofficial guardian. "Sorry we weren't there to help." She apologizes, causeing Big Z to chuff and growl in a saddened tone.

"We could've helped fight," She answers him sharply, clearly angry, "I can handle myself in a fight, Big Z. I'm a part of this team and should've been there to fight those bantha poodoos! You could have been more help to them too, if you hadn't wasted time pulling me out." "He made the right call, Mission." I interrupt in Zaalbar's defense, and she opens her mouth to argue when I add, "There wasn't enough cover. You would've been killed along with Keiro. It was only because Avrum pulled me to safety that I'm alive."

Mish bites her lip while crossing her arms, "Keiro's gone?" She asks, clearly upset.

I can only nod, not trusting my voice, when a familiar one calls out to me from the corner the scared Outcasts are huddled in. "What the hell is going on Kylie?" demands Malya, leaving Rukil's side to face me. The elderly man sits on an old crate looking weak and out of breath. "First explosions from out in the wastes wake us in the middle of the night, then the Vulkars march through the village demanding we take them to the source, and then you people show up and start shooting."

"I'm sorry Malya, if we knew the Vulkars were here, we..." I start before stopping myself. I don't know what we would've done, besides what good is wondering what we would have done? We need to help now. "Is Rukil okay?"

"His heart rate is returning to normal," She answers with weary relief. "What's happened Kylie?" she asks just before Pacini reeenters the center with the others and lays out Gendar on a large table near the low burning fireplace. A concerned murmur rolls through the Outcasts as they take in the state of their leader.

"Kylie, we need answers, now." Malya demands, snapping her head back to me as Pacini begins her work on the wound.

"The Sith have invaded the surface." I tell her, and the murmur of the villagers grows in alarm. "Before they attacked the surface they destroyed a Republic ship in orbit, but not before they launched escape pods. I imagine the explosions you all heard were some of the pods crashing down in the wastes. I came down here to help the survivors. We didn't know the Vulkars were already here, and they're the ones that started shooting."

Things quickly unravel from there. One Outcast demands answers after another until the questions overlap and people start arguing. Anger and fear are the main emotions in the air, and they only build as there is no good answer as to why this happened. The questions quickly turn to accusations for bringing the gang war to their village, for having the gall to salvage the pods on their territory.

"Enough," Gendar calls out in a pained groan. "There are dead that need tending to out there, and assigning blame to those that didn't start the confrontation will not prevent rakghouls from breaking through the gate to get to them. Igear, take some people to take care of the bodies."

"They are the ones who made them dead. Why don't they clean up their own mess?" Whines Igear in a sniveling voice. It's the same merchant that wanted Revan to give him the Promised Land journals, so he could replace Gendar.

"Shaleena is among them," Gendar responds quietly, and you could feel the collective breath from the villagers, "A stray blaster bolt from the Vulkars."

"No!" A woman gasps, rushing out the exit, desperate to find that Gendar is mistaken, that the body out there is not her daughter, her niece or whoever Shaleena was to her. The tears start to well up again as guilt churns my stomach inside out. This wasn't supposed to happen, and the only reason it did was because of me. This is what I call saving Taris, apparently.

"We'll help take care of the Vulkars before we leave." Cineer tells Gendar, her normally harsh and loud voice is subdued so much that I have to strain to hear her. That's when I notice, through the gloomy interior, that there's dark stain on the armor over her shoulder and she's cradling her left arm.

"Cineer you've been hit, sit down and let me take a look." I expected her to argue when I catch the look on her face when I crossed the distance between us, but she relents and takes a seat at on of the stools formed of scrap used as seats for the long table Gendar is laid out on. Fortunately, I do know something about what I'm doing thanks to working alongside Zelka at the clinic. Which I soon learned, after arriving on Taris, serves as the unofficial ER for the illegal aliens of Upper Taris, but not blaster burn victims. An Ithorian having heart problems, a young Twi'lek boy in anaphylactic shock and once a stabbing victim. Like Zelka, Pacini walks me through how to treat Cineer's wound while working on Gendar.

Mission looks on nervously, while Zaalbar, Nakina and Avrum help the Outcasts take care of the Vulkar's remains, and Keiro's. I notice the blue skin of her face turning a little green as she stares at the blood. Which isn't much compared to my experience with the stabbed Rodian who had the bad luck of getting an artery nicked. I'm about to suggest she try to comfort the scared Outcast kids, anything to keep her occupied, when Malya turns her around to face her and they start conversing in whispers.

I don't have much time to decide what they're talking about when Cineer draws back down to her, "I should never have let you two tag along."

"You couldn't have possibly known this would happen." I tell her, returning to my work on her shoulder. "Besides, this isn't my first fire fight or the first casualties I've seen." I admit, even though this has been the most intense of which, and none of the pervious bodies were someone I knew even as remotely as Keiro and Shaleena. "Though I can't speak for Mission, I know she's a tough girl who will survive worse scraps than this one."

"The same goes for you Kylie, you couldn't have possibly known that suggesting to Gadon to go after the pods would lead to this." She says, locking eyes with me, squeezing my hand in her own. "So do me a favor and get rid of that wounded Gizka look on your face. You're not responsible for what went down here, the Vulkars are." They're the ones who pulled the triggers, but that doesn't wash my hands of the domino effect of my actions that made this happen. But I nod to her anyway, appreciative of the gesture, squeezing back before focusing back on the wound. She wouldn't understand my guilt unless I told her everything, and who knows what fatal domino chain that would set in motion.

...

After Cineer is patched up I go looking for Mish and Malya. I find them outside observing the burial of Shaleena's carefully wrapped body from a distance. Quietly I approach to stand beside them. We look on as many of the villagers, even Gendar, leaning heavily on a crutch. Pay their respects and attemp to comfort the grieving woman.

"How's Cin?" Mish asks, her voice thick with emotion.

"Won't be able to fire her blaster for a while but other than that she's fine. How 'bout you two?" I ask scrubbing a wet rag over the dried blood on my hands.

"Does that mean the Beks are returning to the surface?" Malya asks, wiping at her eyes refusing to away from the funeral.

"We're short two blasters. Keiro's body should be returned to his brother and the Sith will invade the Lower Streets any minute now. When that happens they'll be the ones in control of the Lift, our only way out of here." I answer, pretty much word for word Cineer's argument, when I asked. I can't argue those points and I honestly don't have the heart anymore, despite knowing Bastila is still out there.

"Are you going with them?" Is Malya's follow-up question, the hunch of her shoulders and her purposefully distant tone leaves me no doubt of her real question.

"No," I immediately answer. I already made my decision before I found them. "I want to keep my end of our earlier deal, if you still want me to join your expedition to the sewers."

"Why, feeling guilty, over your part in the aftermath of the Beks greed?" She asks cynically, still not looking at me.

"Whether or not you choose to believe it, Malya," I tell her after recovering from the sting of her words. "I came down here to help the Republic survivors. Not for profit."

"Regardless," Malya dismisses, straightening her spine, I can literally hear her deep stealing breath, "I guess we need an extra blaster out there and you're our only option."

"Wait, 'we'?" I ask confused, as she finally turns to me with red rimmed eyes. "Mish wanted to know how she could help my people after all this, and I told her how. She and Zaalbar will be joining us, we leave as soon as the Beks do."

...

"No way, you're all coming back to base with me," is Cineer's reaction when I tell her that we're staying behind. She looks about ready to step out of the lift and throttle me, probably would if not for the sling her arm is in. Nankina and Avrum just stare at us holding the stretcher carrying Keiro's covered body between them. Between Nakina's mask and goggles, Avrum's big pupil-less, unblinking eyes it's really hard to get a read on them. "Get Mission into this lift now if you have to drag her here by her lekku!"

"It's okay Cineer, Mish just has a friend in the village that is taking the girl's death pretty hard. We're going to make sure she's okay before returning to base." I repeat the lie we invented earlier, so Cineer doesn't try to stop us from doing what we need to do. Malya has to find the journals for the sake of her people, and I have to find Bastila for the sake of all of Taris. Though I left out the fact that I'm still going after the pods out when discussing the plan with the two girls and a protesting Wookie. How do I plan to do both, when the journals are in the sewers and the pods crashed above? I'm not sure yet, but my lack of a plan doesn't stop me from hitting the Lower District button in the lift. I step back from the closing doors and call to the frustrated and unhappy Cineer, "Don't worry, I'll get them to the surface before the Sith lock down the lift! I hope." I add to myself once the doors clang shut, sealing my chance at turning back.

**I realize this chapter is particularly angsty, but like me, Kylie tends to take herself too seriously and has difficulty not feeling guilt or responsibility for things going wrong around her even if it is just through causality that she can't necessarily control. If that makes any sense? But I won't let that angst rear it's head to often, in the chapters to come. Hope you liked reading it regardless. **

**'Till next chapter,**

**N7K**


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